Phoenix

Thinking of paper origami cranes,

flying birds with a flap, flap, flap

sound without words.

And how if they burned out like a

Phoenix, would they raise up

victoriously from their ashes

and enter into the world,

bright, shiny and anew?

just like the lost forgotten

copper penny, lying beneath

your feet, along side the sidewalk’s edge.

Sometimes, it often feels 

as though the world

is a cassette tape stuck on

repeat.

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