In the second stanza, the mountain states that “in the morning it is different. / An open book confronts me” (Lines 5-6). Speaking literally, the mountain is reading or trying to read. The book “confronts” her, posing a challenge to her failing eyesight. Figuratively, an “open book” connotes obvious, easily accessible knowledge. When someone says, “I’m an open book,” they mean they are honest, not hiding anything. When the mountain says “an open book confronts me” it may signify that truth confronts her. The truth is, it is aging. This knowledge is what “confronts” the mountain. What others might be able to read easily, the mountain cannot comprehend or endure.

Literally, “[t]he deepest demarcation” (Line 17) means lines that mark the mountain. They may be grooves cut into the land or pathways people have carved. Demarcations also signify more abstract ways that something is marked, i.e., with memories:

The deepest demarcation

can slowly spread and fade

like any blurred tattoo (Lines 17-19).

These lines suggest that the mountain doesn’t know what the markings mean anymore. The memories that were so sharp and deep before have become blurred. Over time a tattoo, which is meant to be permanent, may fade and change with the shape of the body.