DEVON BALWIT | Correspondence
Find ! he shouts , find ! each time something matches what he ’ s been taught — a three-sided thing , another triangle , a dog indeed going woof , an ant tiny and creeping , the planets always in the same order , his last name still unpronounceable when repeated before bed but awaiting him . He finds the owl going whoo , the dumptruck dumping , each confirmed by his saying — finds the very world his parents promised , pinned to his pointing finger .