beautiful gold leaves embrace shimmering green paper

wrapped around a perfect square with perfect folds

embraced by ribbons of gold â€" the ends of which curl

like locks of golden hair

the hand stitched bow is velvet and holds the card

a luscious green garden with fruit bearing trees and flowers a bloom

the writing soft and flowing, delicate strokes of master penmanship

dark and black

there it sits, glowing on its pedestal

delivered to me by the soft white feathers

the day they took my parents away.

I’d trade it all to be normal

I’d trade it all to go home.