"Some people just break you", I said to a friend.Some poems do too. Or so it seemed yesterday, when tears formed in my closed eyes where I sat in a fold-up metal chair in a community centre on Charlotte.
It all comes rushing back. You bring your hands together. And it's here when you wake up.
Tears formed again today. At a bus stop in Green Hills. The phone rang. A friend came. There was ice-cream. Sunshine. A park. Cartwheels. And wind.
Great gusts of it. Enough to rattle the nerves and blow back the hair.
I don't know what I thought would happen. But I found myself running towards the kite. Gesturing to the man downhill, as if to say 'Stay where you are, I'll launch it for you'.
Instead, he laid his best kite out for me. I took the strings. A tug. And up.
It's hard to put into words. So I won't.
Except to say that holding those strings and staring into the sky is the closest I come to joy.
Tensing my thighs and shifting my feet beneath it's sway, I'm pulled - as usual - every which way. But this time I'm elated.
This world is bright and bold, and in it we are tugged and entangled.
And there is always the sky, its endless paths, its staggering gusts.
On we whip and whirl.
