My Captain

I watched him fly a kite. Dipping, diving turning, swirling And when it soared, I saw his face, Filling with delight! He spent his afternoons flying His evenings fixing. Battered, broken and torn From trees and wash lines he had worn. Next day back again Messing with its tail this time, to help it climb. It did. Over trees, above the roof The lone red kite remained aloof, quite awhile. Man, you should have seen his smile. An ear-to-ear, wide-mouthed grin, So huge it overwhelmed his chin. Eyes that sparkled like diamonds, But, diamonds are forever and He didn’t come today and won’t return Tomorrow. There's gossip in the marketplace Of his mother’s sorrow. Captain of the flagship, Pirate of the sky. A playful child, far too young to die. He and his kite dared any feat, Would not from even birds retreat. He sailed his kite up to the sun, Just him and Jesus having fun. Fishing for a breeze to soar on, Finding currents they might get tore on. Young and Brave and unafraid of space, He always found his “shadow”, Fix a broken bone, mend each wing in place, Such concentrated joy upon his face. They won’t be flying any more. Kites from five and ten cent store. And Pilots! What a thing most rare. I doubt I’ll ever see another, Great as that one there. Yes, he was good. Anything you told him to, he would. With a smile and a ma’am or sir. Now I sit beside my window Waiting for a breeze to stir. Thinking of a boy with kite, Thinking, what a lovely sight! So proud, so young and so defiant. Used to take that kite and fly it Where no other one would dare Adventures he and I would share. Weaving round the power lines Near windows, over pines. A master craftsman at his trade. No one could match the way he played. Oh what things he could achieve. And now I sit alone and grieve. A young boy died, as dreams and dreamers do; left behind this memory, a moment, maybe two. Shadow kites come my way, no more. My little Captain, too soon called to shore.