Gene Han via Flickr
Green and yellow windows
Beckon mysteriously –
Calling me out of the rosy life I used to lead.
I wave goodbye as the petals fade,
The flowers I can’t pick up again;
But up ahead there’s a paper house –
Fragile walls and transparent doors,
Ready to crumple, yet razor sharp
And all around are new words,
Waiting to be written.
~ Ilana Reimer