Carolyn’s fingers

Carolyn’s fingers
Pale and slender
Picking at harp strings
Ringing like doves
In the night sky

Moon lit under the stars
Launching her paper boat
Into the reservoir

Covering her room with origami
Paper chain children
Are disjointed by her hands
As she cuts off her family tree
With scissors

Her eyes
Pale as two grey clouds
Begin to trickle
And shimmer

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