scissors are my paintbrush

snipping and cutting the cardstock skin of trees

they begin to form the shapes of leaves

and though they are the excess, of the larger shape i cut
i begin to notice that each spindly tiny shard
is a glowing pulsing knut

i see beauty in each slight discard of paper i cut
these scraps have angles...so sharp and clean
i spy a perfect square, accidental, unplanned
facedown on the ground

i can not resist, it can not be wasted, tainted
unappreciated

i see a combination of haphazard shreds,
off to the side
it is so pretty
i stop to admire.


but stop.
and sweep them away with my hand. into the trash.

the world is too full of beauties, to stop and admire.
the world is too full of lovely things, to value one perfect pentagonal piece of paper.
one must not lament, and one must not attempt to preserve everything.

just sweep it away with your hand. it is gone forever.

and just keep on...

snipping and cutting the cardstock skin of trees.

-Pamplemousse