Dhriti Chakraborty

Paper Crane

A paper crane
Sits on my coffee table,
A good luck symbol,
Harbinger of happiness,
The fan heater churns
Out its low hum,
While Christmas lights
Twinkle on city news.

I am wrapped in
My shawl, considering
The low light of the lamp,
The length of shadows
Varying across the room
And the floor,
While a slow warmth
Settles over my chest.

There will be a tomorrow,
Certainly, and a rush
Of things to do, to be done,
And then undone. But all
Of that seems at odds with
This moment. I am convinced
That you too, wherever
You may be, are fine as well.

There could have been a second
Somewhere, a crash
To disrupt the peace.
But now it's quiet
And level, even and friendly,
A room full of love
Without origin.

Topic(s) of this poem: winter

Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 27, 2016

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