Kites
Will viewpoint shift with my spine’s slow
compression, or will this
window admit only true images
in the shortened days to come?
I pencil phrases on bone-shaped kites
and release them to the afternoon.
Call them prayers, name them moans.
Each string is a regret freed, a separate
skeleton, let go. My two selves shudder
in the attempt. I await the perfect breeze.
“Kites” first appeared here in July 2016.
O at the Edges 
liberating piece of writing. Very nice.
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Fly and be free. Or something like that. 🙂
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Another exhale moment.
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Just remember to inhale! 😄
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!
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I read the title as “Kitties,” and was initially somewhat challenged by the text. However, I watched carp and perch swim from above on a dock end today, and I’m breathing pretty gaily to an image of fish bones flying in the wind. Somehow I’m still reminded of backaches.
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It does sound a bit painful…
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I’m a little verbose, but yeah, gliding lumbar. That’s the niggling voice getting older though, isn’t it? “Sounds fun, but how much will it hurt?”
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That voice never shuts up!
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Hey, where did it go?
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Oops!
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This is incredible! Thank you for sharing and for liking my most recent poem. It means a lot coming from someone as talented as yourself!
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Thanks very much! You’re too kind.
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“I await the perfect breeze” is a thought provoking offset, like the third line in an extended Haiku. I notice your poems often end with these. I like that. I tried something in that vein, calling my poetry American Haikus at one the time, but moved too far away from the form to be credible. Fine poem, this.
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Thank you. The hardest part is knowing when to remove those lines from a poem. Sometimes they’re overkill, but I usually don’t realize it until they poems have marinated for months.
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