Kites over Champaign County

Tie a string around my ankles;

Tie it tight, grip it well, and run.

I will bump along the ground,

but, like Marylin Monroe’s,

my skirt will catch air.

When the strings grow taught,

toss me into the atmosphere.

My skirt will billow, swallow me,

and parachute me into the sky.

 

Let me ride amongst the waves of winds.

I will dip and dive with the birds,

close my eyes against the afternoon sun,

and sway with the calm wind around me.

Dreams of hot air balloon rides are fulfilled

by the simplest wish of powerful parachutes.

 

As the sun is replaced by stars in the sky,

I will exhale steady breaths until I am only air.

And when my time comes,

tug my cord gently,

and let me go.

I will fly away in the moonlight.