Where I Saw You (The Kite)

Maybe you are not in love

but I am stuck

tangled in branches

knots of thin white string

wrapped around wood

by night winds

high in the top of a thick

bushy cypress

pining for you to climb up to me

Cut me free with your knife

Let me fly again into the clouds

As you sing out in joy

the beauty of my colors

against the endless blue sky

Part of a Creative Writing Project: Letters to Geographer 2015-2016