Flying the Kite
FLYING THE KITE
On the sunny days of the chilly winter
Within me the child I left long ago enters
I go out under the blue sky shining bright
Fly in the northern wind my colored kite.
The collaged kite soars slowly high
Flies with the flock of birds in the sky
When it cuts the thread of another kite
Arms thrown high, I jump in delight.
The kite nosedives to touch the horizon far
I take it high up again with a spin in the air
I marvel at my residual kite flying skill
The child in me, I know, is there still.
If I can fly my life like a kite in the sun
The child will never leave me, I’ll have fun.
June 23, 2018.
Copyright © Subimal Sinha-Roy | Year Posted 2018
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