Previous A Vision To Fly Next
John Eaton kite pic here
She sits in wait as tension mounts.
She grabs the wind and holds it tight.
She arcs and climbs, turns left then right.
Her wings purr, then growl, as she pitches and dives.
Her breast heaves forth with arms stretched wide.
Her poise bares notice to her winged pride.
Her lines, her cut, her color, her grace.
She shares the sky with wind and light,
and with others so brave as to taste such flight.
She's free to soar and forced to land.
For her limit is found in just one little thing.
In the vision of the one who is holding her string.

- Lanny Bordage

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