Take a sheet of paper the size of a frog, and
fold it upon itself countless dozens, hundreds of times,
make head, legs, a gaggle of fingers, split of veins,
fat frog belly tumid with eggs or whatever else
a frog might be pregnant with.
Take a sheet of paper the size of a tree, and
fold it upon itself numberless hundreds, thousands of times,
make trunk, branches, a murder of twigs, waves of bark,
splayed veins of leaves humorous with sap or whatever else
a tree might be pregnant with.
Take a sheet of paper the size of a person, and
fold it upon itself infinite thousands, millions of times,
make a torso, arms, a litter of toes, copse of hair,
tropical womb simmering with child or whatever else
a person might be pregnant with.
J. Richard McLaughlin lives in