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.