In the beginning there was nothing
Or nothing much -- just some odd-shaped rocks,
A few spools of yellow thread and the shadows
Of things not yet created. God and His dog
Were restless and went for a walk. The rocks
Hurriedly shrugged themselves into mountains
Or powdered themselves into sandy flats
So the two of them had places to walk.
The thread -- it was good thread but nothing
You couldn't find at a five and ten cent store
If fives and tens and stores had been invented --
Spun a hasty sun into the sky. The shadows
Became chance-met strangers eager to point out
To God and His Dog the local sites which appeared
After they were described. Then some of the shadows
Decided they'd been cats all along.
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