I find it written everywhere,

Your name in your small hand,

Careful scrawls on books and walls

In paint and snow and sand:


The Double You

The careful Aye

The double Em

Before the Why.


It used to be a pictograph

That I could not translate

But every signature I find

That’s of a later date


Becomes a little sharper,

A little clearer than before

Coming into focus,

Every day a little more.


Like the features of your face,

(All babies look the same)

But yours are written on my heart

And so too is your name.

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