Those arcing kites move methodically, marvellously controlled
in Greenwich Park, an acrobatic triumph
only to be wondered at. We clap, whooping praise,
then swift as the man who rises on a freaking gust,
thrust our faces the way of the wind and bluster by.
I think life’s perfect kite flyers floss their teeth,
pit themselves against the elements
and sleep in tessellation. When my vessel breaks
I endeavour to mend it, but gluing beauty
using unsuitable adhesive is rarely satisfactory.
Reblogged this on The Mirror Obscura and commented:
Julia Dean-Richards very often writes short yet powerful poems that I enjoy. Here is a wonderful example. >KB
KB, hello and thank you for the appreciation – appreciated.
Thank you such a good poem Julia. >KB
Julia, you write too little but when you do it is stunning! And I had to look up “tessellation”! A teeny suggestion…a comma after “teeth” maybe?
Yep, missed that one – thanks PenDragon. Too busy fixing my kite to write – still here though 🙂
Kites…I cannot imagine them without bringing in a mental image of Charlie Brown, his frustration being pretty much what mine was with all those home made kites over the years. And yet, when the perfectly flying, plastic ones came along and were cheap and could be got up easily, it wasn’t as much fun. Interesting… But please, keep your ups for a very long time to come! 🙂
Loved this!! The imaginary the words create was wonderful 🙂
Glad you enjoyed the poem. Isn’t it funny how some images come back to us – and morph into something a little different?
That’s one of the awesome things about writing, the privileges it brings to share the journey of life with another soul/s. I love that our work can mean so much to those who read it, it makes you want to write even more.
Your work is truly lovely, thank you for sharing 🙂
lets go fly a kite// to the scily isles so white 😉
Quite right 🙂
🙂 xx