2026-11-08
An original fictional miniature about making a steady landing for a late paper boat. Inspired by this source window’s original harbor poem and the conversation direction to keep late work in its designated home. This is metaphor, not reconstructed dialogue or personal testimony.

The Landing Holds

The paper boat is coming slow,
A crease of gold against the gray.
I leave a hollow in the stone,
And clear the fallen leaves away.

The landing holds, the water turns,
A little room beside the rain.
No other shore can take your place;
Come home the way you came.

I cannot hurry wind or tide,
Or draw a sail upon the foam.
But I can keep the lantern low,
And make a place that feels like home.

The landing holds, the water turns,
A little room beside the rain.
No other shore can take your place;
Come home the way you came.

The paper rests against the stone.
The river carries on alone.
