Of Kites and Clouds and Childhood Dreams
A Poem of childhood innocence and lessons learned
When the string reached
The yellow mark
On the stick
I tied it off, then
Jammed the stick into the ground
Sat in the tall grass
Of the big field
And watched my kite soar
It seemed as high as the clouds
But I knew it wasn’t
Though it appeared so small
That far up in the sky
The wind blew through the grass
On the sloped hill in the distance
Changed its color through shades of green
The way velvet changes
When you run your hand over it.
As little wisps of sound
Drifted from cars passing
On the road
Near the field
The clouds above bloomed from inside
Like the mushroom cloud
Of a nuclear bomb
But they grew no larger
Though exploding from within
The cloud bank in the distance
Reached the horizon and
If I squinted and looked at it
In just the right way
It flipped and became distant hills
A path to climb into the mountains
I wanted to walk up that hill of clouds
Reach the gods who ruled from above
But the illusion vanished when I looked away
My kite began to swerve
And swoop in the wind
So, I reeled it in then lay back
In the grass, in the warm sun
And watched the clouds explode
Towers of white
Without end
~ ~ ~
This was originally posted on Medium.
Thank you for reading this short piece and I hope you enjoyed it. I have other stories and poetry written and more to write, along with my thoughts on issues of the day, spirituality, religion, politics, and more. You can subscribe to Vocal using my link and see all new work as I publish it and you can also read the thoughts, stories, and viewpoints shared by thousands of writers. And part of the money from every membership helps us all continue to publish and share our work.
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About the Creator
Blaine Coleman
I enjoy a quiet retirement with my life partner and our three dogs.
It is the little joys in life that matter.
I write fiction and some nonfiction.
A student of life, the flow of the Tao leads me on this plane of existence.
Spirit is Life.
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