Wednesday, October 21, 2009

A kite too far

death, my love,
is a scary thing
but not so much
compared to responsibility
for things beyond your control
for people you can't make do
what you
in your ultimate wisdom
think they should do
like it's not out of your hands
the string leading
to a kite too far in the sky
like the silent pop
is not a hurt
a hurt in the swirling
farther away tail
that makes death
easy my life
easy my love
a folding and gentle creasing
like with an unbitten
fearless thumbnail

From a collection of poems called the majesty of the past by Jackson poet Bob Hudson. The bound collection can be found at Sneaky Beans coffee shop and One Blu Wall Photography Gallery.

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