Kite Flight Let’s see now, something as light as air, Material to ride on the breeze. Silk bloomers, perhaps. I see a pair On that line, hanging between those trees. There’s lots more laundry out there to dry, But those huge bloomers are what I need. See how they billow, yearning to fly - Drop those clothespins and they’d pick up speed. With two thin branches from that sumac, And a ball of twine to guide its flight, It shouldn’t take long to get the knack, And thrill at my disappearing kite. Too embarrassed to ask anyone, So I help myself to the undies. I grab them from the clothesline and run, Hoping the owner sleeps late Sundays. The feel of pink silk, so cool and soft, Elastic waist to add some support, Can hardly wait to get it aloft, Kite flying is a really good sport. Why, there’s even a thin band of lace, That I can tear off to make a tail. That should lend an air of birdlike grace, As behind the bloomers it will trail. Next to a wall, I get down to work, Tying bloomers and twigs together. Soon wind fills the kite with a strong jerk, Soaring skyward, light as a feather. I’m standing in a wide open field, As proud of my kite as I can be, When, on the nearby road is revealed, A police car coming after me. Should I drop my drawers and run away? Or continue to let them fly high? Seeing only a fellow at play, The police car passes right on by. ~ © RickMack (jotoma@bellsouth.net) ~ Art by Swampetta (SWAMPETTA@aol.com) March 2004 BACK If you enjoyed this page, check these out: Desert Spring Spring Is Here Home: Writers' Winter 2004 Index Click the image and visit my business website. http://graphicsbymarilyn.com/