I’ll not see legs the same again until we go away.
when young I saw the fabled metal, paper mail,
the people went about their business through the dale,
while able children leapt to lend a hand to those
who couldn’t reach their letter prose. ’twas then I chose
my first profession, unaware my skill was nay

to jump. I fought my way to first as novice under glass
and learnt in secret arts known only by the Legs,
I do suspect. the sand we use for letter eggs
is indigo, and beaches here do papers ink.
but we drink turquoise fruit, as rusty hands do sink
with setting moons. we feel our dale, whose hair like grass

is like a dale and also more. we work and live and eat
to work, with first and careful thought to how our food
could hand a magic some-thing unto us, for pseud,
erratic work, like legs that run too fast, is not
well-known to have a lot in kind. long papers rot
declare where magic rumors are. I letter neat,

my teacher says. I let myself to letter orders for
our business, which I walk with through the dale and trade
for items, rare and common. one such paper aid
I give is for the first who work up on the cliff
to greet the diff’rent people there with legs. I glyph
and hand the words, and they give me the news of o’er

the way beyond the wavey hand of colored sand that’s known
as bubbly, ocean hair, as letters say. but though
the world is there, a pair of legs is here, that flow
like water, climb like vines, and cut the dale across
like knives, but mossly soft. but where their feet first gloss
the ground is only that. the paper scalp of stone

perfection’s quite unlike a person’s common paper names
for people here. the hands are callous, thick like bright
and tropic rinds, with arms to match the first delight
of strength that we can letter as our own, and of
the dale. above in joy and pink platonic love
to meet the fuchsia sunset sky. the Legs have aims

unknown, but papers we secure in trust, to help letter
and hand the captured words we say from here, our talking dale,
to first create our world. and now we leave to find our legs.