Sunday, July 20, 2025

Samuel 2: In Writing

And the wind. The drifting bubbles

The kites with streamers

that soar and swoop and crash.


 The world perches on stilts

and likes to flip

off the tightrope

spanning the abyss–


fall down to the taut plain

balanced on posts

only to bounce up again. 


A costumed woman with a crown of stars

Turns in an undulating banner.

Behind her all things wind-driven and fragile:


Kites, crepe, whirligigs,

sugarfloss that melts to the tongue. 

a woman with a rainbow wrapped baby.


My baby runs between the shadows--

I will never wrap him again.

My daughter's keens as her string tangles

my son crying because the tassels tear,

because it flies

because it won't fly

because it falls.  

 

Walls disappear in a sudden gust 

that sends kites spinning. 

Hold on tight for the next turn

No comments:

Post a Comment