Friday, June 02, 2006


You rose flying,
finally breathless
toward that welcome end
and reached
to brush the clouds
at its bottom.

I grasped carefully
the one thin thread
you held still wrapped
on your other hand
knowing that by then
it was only as strong
as you wanted it to be,
and felt your light tugs
at the other end.

were an erratic dark kite
backlit in a thunderstorm
and I did not dare
to pull you back
against that chaotic strength
any longer
felt, suddenly conducted,
the giant electricity
of your flight through
black rain and lightning,
saw your thin thread begin
to fall free back to earth
then found these burn scars
already cooling on my hands.


Anonymous said...

This is perfect...the image is so stark and clear, for me. I like this almost the best of everything you've posted so far...

coyote said...

Do you think it's the poem, or some inner resonance, that makes this so clear for you...?

Anonymous said...

Both, doggie. Ever have those dreams where you're flying, flying...? And this poem combines that feeling, and the sense of watching someone leaving, flying beyond...and away from you. If you're changeable, then you can become the person flying away...which we've all done at one point or another.

coyote said...

Two places at once... yes, I've had both kinds of dreams.