This word unfolds, gathers up wind
to speed the crane's flight
north of my sun to you.
I am shaping this poem
out of paper, folding
distances between our seasons.
This paper is a crane.
When its wings unfold,
The paper will be pure and empty.
-- Marjorie Evasco
It has just been one super-busy week, visitors arriving soon (it's summer!) and it's my turn to post for my favorite of all days, Poetry Friday.
I originally posted this poem at my now slumbering blog The Incredible Thinking Woman. Even today, long into its bloggy snooze, this post has proven to be one of my most-viewed -- at least according to my Real Time counter.
The post also featured Marjorie's wonderful and wonderfully short titled essay entitled Why I Write.
By the way, there are some pretty amazing things being done with cut paper today (not by me, b/c I'm too busy!). You can check them out here: Going West and Hoedown.
It's too rainy for Amy to be hoeing her crops over at the Poem Farm, but we're sure she's inside posting all our Poetry Friday entries and planning her next crop. Head on over!