The Paper Crane

A red paper crane

Blown by the wind

Beats its wings lustfully

In the night.


Erratic, it skips

Over torn scraps

Of filthy newspaper

On the street.


Under dim neon,

Its flight carries

The crane into a pool,

A gutter.


One apartment

Light looks down on

The puddle with a soft

Glow like tears


And the rain begins to fall.


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