Ekphrastic Poem: A Room of Paper

A room of paper,

Before and after,

And during the flight of planes.

 

A sheet of paper as white as milk,

Divided into right-angled shapes,

Individual sheets with aspirations and destinies.

 

Each individual blank page,

Shaped by the hands of their creators,

Prepared to take flight.

 

Wings folded, then folded again

A nose and tailed creased into shape,

Poised to wreak chaos and destruction.

 

The varied lives of human hands leave

The hands of their creator,

Filled with energy out into the world.

 

A quiet flap reaches a crescendo,

Following spiralling paths of their choosing,

Their travels create small creases and wrinkles.

 

The dull percussion becomes louder still,

The constant stream increasing,

A snow of paper covering the room for reading.

 

Those planes no longer fit for flight,

Compressed into a lifetime of events between covers,

The youngest the blank, the oldest the most written.

 

Eventually there must be an after, the planes must go away,

They will no longer leave and fly,

Sheets once blank and white but now all faded and wrinkled.

 

A room of paper,

Before and after,

And during the flight of planes.

 

 

 

Based on Ross Coulter’s 10,000 Paper Planes

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