If the plants make up the letters
And the animals form the words
And the stark stars run on
Like sentences what language
Is being overheard
Doesn't the rain sound a little
Lithuanian to you as if
Mumbled by a French child
The gutturals and accent ague
Words that are the clatter
They speak of water
You can write with
They paint the sea like love
With a gray burnish a sky
Of total relinquishment above
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