Every stone seems to say this is how much
spiking the sky with their singing; the trees
the exact map and colour of the lichen -
the faces that built it. The list's as long,
to see the green trinity of wood sorrel,
the modesty of its white petals, fine veins
No one told you its leaves taste good and citrus.
the endless North of all the things
Chew wood sorrel. Consider walllessness.
Hadrian's Wall, Housesteads