Kite Master

by Dorothy Mahoney

He has traced
a thousand wings
on paper,
his constant eyes
study sky:
how clouds
form dragon scales,
trail like peacock tails,
knowing there
is no need for wind.
Kites steady with string.

A puppeteer,
he has made hawks
and dragonflies
swoop over still-ponds,
seen kites freed
beyond mountain crags
he will never travel,
his fingers tightening
on biting string.

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Filed under Issue 5: The Far East, Poetry

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