Jo Ann Baldinger
 

Kiting

Turns out I’m not brave enough to be a bird
to do farewells the way they do, take their leave
without the bulky parcels of regret.
                
At Manzanita Bay I fly a diamond kite
my proxy partner in the dance of weightlessness
played out through this thread, this wooden spool

trusting that the line will hold.
Hoping to be singed
with something like electric fire.

Each launch is clumsy, unpredictable,
each landing violent in a different way.
I gather the broken pieces, all I can find,

and begin the slippery mule work
of trying to put them back together.
Learning to assess the losses.

Some bright salty days the kite opens
gleefully to every random current,
flicking long ribbons down to the shore

where the mad puppy races on the sand.
His ears whipple inside out and he’s barking
at the kite—Come back! or Take me with you!

Jo Ann Baldinger writes poems and practices yoga. Her poems have appeared in Blue Mesa, Burningword, Cirque, Monarch Review, Stickman Review, Verdad, and White Whale. contact