I’ve unfolded us like origami

Ripped apart our borders

Dissected the shadowed corners

of secrets forced  them into

the light to mourn like the hollow

bones of birds.

I have renamed us where every

memory is not an ache beneath my ribs

and every  thought is not an assault on the dead. 

My heart is the flush of peony

the color of healing scars.

pink carnations


73 thoughts on “Paper Birds

  1. Absolutely beautiful, Holly. Your way of creating atmosphere by finding the perfect words and rhythm, by sending very special and impressive images, comparisons or metaphors is great.
    In German we sometimes use to express our unlimited enthusiasm and admiration by saying it’s “zum Niederknien” (means: you are overwhelmed with emotion/ joy/excitement and simply feel the desire to kneel down in front of it.

    Have a nice weekend! Warm regards, Michèle

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  2. I’ve come back to this poem many times Rene, and this is infinitely relatable. I feel that ache under the ribs when I remember or dream of those lost connections that compelled my life into boundless joy and eventually a dark heart without fingers to feel or eyes to behold. It was the Peonies of Asia that gave my heart the will to heal, to feel, to see much more than what was evident before. Your poetic gifts are life songs heard in perfect pitch.

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    1. I’m very moved by your comment Dan. Thank you for expressing your feelings and experiences. I don’t think we ever recover fully from a deep loss but must keep moving forward. Thank you so much.

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      1. It is true, and your poem says it so well. I have come to realize the letting go, if done properly, can also be an act of love, most often its anger and hurt. Regardless, life continues and we have our memories, our reflections to help make our souls wiser.

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  3. NB : An American friend has just brought precise information about your cherries, Holly, in a comment just below your reply on my post . Those cherries would be Surinam cherries;

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    1. That’s so amazing Michel. Somehow I knew you would help me discover exactly what those little yummy fruits were. I’ve not seen any since my father’s cherry hedge from my childhood. Thank you!


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