“Paper Swans,” New Era, Aug. 1989, 28
Paper Swans
He ran outside
In corduroy overalls that
Bagged at the knees,
Dragging behind him
Transparent dreams
Of color and light
To be pinned against a crepe-paper sky
With gusts of wind.
“Fly!” he commanded
And tugged fiercely at the string.
It jerked upwards
And, with a rustled sigh,
Fell.
It lay there—
A slash of fragile flesh
Exposing bamboo bone
Creaking stiffly in the wind.
He trudged back inside
With spit-polished face and dirty hands,
Dragging behind him
A tangled mess
Of paper and string
To be hauled away with the garbage
Next Monday morning.
Photography by V. Beth Scott
Photography by Bobbi Jane Rice