The Crane

Another perfect fold

Another perfect crease

Another perfect moment

When paper becomes

The Crane

Simplistic, elegance

In the way that it stands

Its beak is open

Its wings won’t fly

It sits on a mantelpiece to be admired

Does it watch the world go by

Even though there are no eyes

Does it feel the gentle breeze

Even though it has no feathers

Symbolic of health

A time of happiness

A thousand folded

To bring hope

A memory missed when

The child was taught

That perfect fold, perfect crease

To show off its simple

Elegant style

In a message

Not written

But in how it waits

While sitting

Alone

Emma Phillips 21/09/2011