Pure fiction, people, as always! :)) xx

LOVE NOTES


My poem was returned to me.

You had folded it beautifully
into an origami dove,
but imposed over my
hard-sweated words
were red letters of your own:

an S was found under the tip of one wing;
an O (perhaps for olive) was held within
its tiny beak. As breast feathers parted,
two Rs could be seen nestled there.
And the Y was mine to seek and find.

I unfolded with care
the painstaking creases
lest any other contents be lost;

then the deadened parchment lay
a single ruffled sheet
spread-eagled on the table before me.

How bad news travels fast,
becoming an Ibis petrified
into bastion walls of the heart!

Meek harbinger of your
tough editorial decision.