Kite

Poetry | Kim Denning

Kite twists on a power line

tail wrapped around, 

in failed spiral,

nylon umbilical, cut, 

wavering on wind

Stuck, no rescue

no risking conduction

no clearing captivity

no letting go 

of Kite, into end

Linemen will come, later,

Now though, we wonder

how Kite ended up,

when it happened,

who lost, let go, 

Do they even miss

Other end stories, too

who, what rattled,

before Kite up and went, 

Or, did they send, 

choices stumbling 

into decision

Was Sinister Wait

suspicious under pressure,

truths under surface,

coaxing Kite from panicked grip,

turning ugly, the string

unraveled, untwisted, 

broke, unusable

Or what of moment before,

feeling like having a grip,

knowing Wind’s direction,

Kite catching waves,

unspooled with conviction

on abandoned soar

and cool, skylit pride

Did Kite lift from orbit,

severing commitment, 

drifting into overwhelm, 

or diving groundward, 

into sorrow, or content

seizing power line—

Where Kite is a

kite on string,

mylar and frame, with

strings attached,

in solitary suspension