When words failed him, he coughed--
But those plegm yellow sounds got the braille
From the lungs so the tongue could be read aloud.
He did what came natural, next:
Shot a white eye into the pond's air, and watched it
Over the stock divot, disappearing in flapping ink--
The indentations rose to places where they
Could recite their iliads in clouds.
(He thought if only his wings would touch the infinite watertips.)
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