The tree limbs shadow across the grass,
a dark language
Of strokes and ideograms
That spells out a different story than we are used to,
A story with no beginning and no end,
a little one.
I leave it and cross the street.
I think it’s a happy story,
and not about us.
Charles Wright, closing lines to “Language Journal,” Xionia (The Windhover Press, 1990)