You wrote the first alphabet, me wrote pining...of a story.

You wrote the first alphabet
On page white like a cloud set
In the bosom of the sky,
And me worked
To make that
A rainbow, perfect,

You wrote a song
In throat of a cuckoo,
On a tree perched
And me worked
To make haply that
notes running high and flat,

And the rest turned a history,
A myth, a dream,
A pining...
A coffee table book,
An elm by the brook,
A cool breeze,
A picture by times freezed,
A calligraphic art,
A technology smart,
An autumn near,
A stormy tear,
An Oxford '57 short hand,
A known never traveled land,
A cursive youngish old,
A tattooed mind cold,
A monsoon undying,
A limitless shine,
An universe,
A biblical verse,
A written lore,
A story...


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