Fold and crease and fold down twice, fold up once,
turn to the other side,
fold,
open, fold up, turn again, fold again,
open, pull - - and glide.
My mum took me down to the river
at the end of the first summer day,
and she showed me how to make paper boats
and let them drift away.
The water ran silkily through our toes,
the breezes were sleepy and mild.
As we watched our ships on the shimmering waves
I turned to my mother and smiled:
“Aren't they beautiful, graceful and bright,
like six noble swans on a river of light,
like pearls in a sapphire ocean,
like blossoms in meadows of dew,
white pilgrims of faith and devotion
sailing off into the blue.”
Thus we sat on the banks making paper boats
from the letters that came in may,
and with each one my mum grew more distant,
looking fragile and grey.
As I set my last ship on the water,
as I watched how the ink paled and ran,
my mother's voice whispered behind me:
“This is your brother Dan.
There, in the front, are your father and Frank,
impatient and eager to go,
to the left are the twins -can you tell them apart?-
in the back, late as ever, that's Joe.
We watched them a while drifting into the sun,
saw their white paper sails turning red.
When at last they were only bright specks in the dusk
my mother sighed softly and said:
“Aren't they beautiful, fateless and free,
fleeting and airy, like foam on the sea,
like a promise, too young to be broken,
like new hope, so sweet and untrue,
like the flicker of wishes unspoken
over the deep, deep Blue.”
Then she told me: “The war is over”,
and she put her rough hand in mine.
We walked homewards across the silent fields
as the first star began to shine.
Fold and crease and fold down twice, fold up once,
turn to the other side,
fold,
open, fold up, turn again, fold again,
open, pull - - - - and glide!
Eva, Spring 2006
For Debbie, Allison & Jodie