Air on a Kite String

By Jo Eden


Hover-flying stirs the wild blue
air-brush breath of hollow bamboo.

Small clenched fingers reel out string.
Upturned face, now anxious, now giggling.

Neon orange cat, hot against black
yanks down the sky, flap slap.

Summer winds, tail tied to the sun
drag to a stop. Over the horizon

kite follows, winding down.
Wags left right left,

round, round.

Dives headlong to a perfect stand
Clutched in the palms of a child’s hand.

Let us be kites, of all times now
Carefree, air-born, a bit of anyhow.

Free to fly, free to fall.
Coming quietly back to it all.

I wrote the poem to gently remind myself to accept what I cannot change about the many challenges that surround lockdown and the pandemic and to focus on what I can control.  To take time, to slow down, to look at the world with the eyes of a child.  Find joy in simple things.  To fly and to be kind to self and others when I’m feeling low or angry or confused and ask for help.

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