Written for: The Twiglets #235 - "folded paper"
For me, an art is
the ability to fold
an open map.
Notes of brightly
about my bag–Post-It Parade
floats down serene lake
slight ripple in the mast
child's paper boat
He worked in a paper factory,
reams of white as far as the eye can see
One day he went mad
and with crayons in hand,
drew tie-dyed drawings in a frenzy.
I am a freelance poet, born and bred in Brooklyn, New York. I live with my husband, John, and two charming rescue dogs–Marion Miller and Murphy. We spent eight lovely years in Portland, OR, but are now back in New York.
My goal is to create and share poetry with others
who write, or simply enjoy reading poetry. I hope to touch a nerve
in you, and feel your sparks as well.
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Love that first one.
Each of your verses brought back so many memories.
I used to walk by a paper factory on the way home from school… once a gent there gave my sister and I multi colored spiral pads… maybe they weren’t cut right or maybe they were. Scraps are always fun to use.