Origami

The smooth crisp of new paper
Sharp, sleek, like new suits on sale

We scramble for the pieces
Bright bold hues calling
A myriad of colours clutter the table
A draft, and they

Flutter

Fold here and there
In half, then into perfect angular quarters
Again and again
Symmetry’s key

Imprinted crinkles
Like meandering distributaries
Cut the lines between
From clean to weatherworn like an old pair of shoes
The paper’s stained with creases of time




When bored, write senseless poems.