OANH NGUYEN

PAPER CRANES

My little girl
twists and folds
Yellow square post-its
into peace cranes.
Wringing the blank paper
of all its potential. 

Encumbered
only by tubes
snaking from her wrists
Harsh florescent lights
Alarms and beeps
Constant and dissonant
Unsettling a cacophony.

Her fingers wander along the paper trail
through mountain and valley folds
turning sideways,
flipping over,
lifting flaps,
discovering wings.
And with a little puff of air
She breathes life
into the body of a paper crane.

Flight
Freedom
endless possibilities
unbearable fragility
all in her palm.

In a world outside her window
A chopper takes off.
Without looking from her crane,
she says: “You only get to fly
when you are near death.”

__________ 

OANH NGUYEN IS A PART-TIME ONLINE STUDENT AT THE UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA, FOCUSING ON CREATIVE WRITING. SHE CURRENTLY LIVES IN THE PHILADELPHIA SUBURBS WITH HER TWO CHILDREN AND OTHER ANIMALS. HER WORK APPEARS IN MOVING FORCE JOURNAL, SAD GIRL’S LITERARY BLOG, AND YELLOW ARROW PUBLISHING.