Origami Smiles
A poem about the brunt of time
Published in
Aug 22, 2022
She lay abed, writhing in pain
on sheets of white, awaiting death.
She lay abed,
as wrinkles conquered the corner of her eyes,
fine lines found abode on her cheeks
and her face made perfect creases
her granddaughter scrambled to make
in origami class.
She lay abed, as her body was reduced
to the fragile innocence of a ten-year-old child.
She lay abed,
as his hand in hers jogged a faint memory
of when she walked down the aisle and said “I do.”
“I still do,” she said, clutching his hand
as she slowly shut her eyes
and a faint smile on her lips made perfect creases
her granddaughter scrambled to make
in origami class.
