A few words mean rain mean clouds Mean beautiful fog
In old English grave yards and smoke from candles
That no longer are
And a few words or the trace of a smile
Is a lake or a river or a bright grey sky
Or trees when they are where they matter in the forest
In the morning with rain
And the stain of red roses against an opal-like,
grey rainy world
And the wood of the fence ink black
with the rain it has taken that has tinted it
A few words and the trace of interest in someone's eyes
Means a sunset on the sea or the sand
in my hands when they are icy cold
And my mittens are off like sea shells
That answer what the sea never said
Words mean the hidden sun
And the white iridescent moon and the stars
That really are so much more than balls of fire
Words are the sun and words are the light
That takes and gives every color I am made of words
Words run through my veins and my mind
They fill my lungs
And they are all I see for miles
They are so colorful
And they paint the world so that it makes sense
In the most complicated way.

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