Wee | My Paper Planes Poem Kenneth

When the moon is a thin coin, I fold one from an old photograph and send it out with a wish I can’t say twice. It stutters, then steadies, and in the silver hush I think: to travel is to risk being reshaped. My paper planes have torn edges and ink smudges; they come back changed, and when they don’t return, I like to think they found new hands to teach.

• АТС
• Panasonic
• Лицензии KX-NS
• my paper planes poem kenneth wee