STRINGS

If there was a string that reaches the sun would you share that kite?

the notion that we have something pulling us away from this green spot
and the wind might help us get to gold

Is childhood gone when a kite can't carry dreams for restless runners

I know we want the things we see that others pretend to smile over
on television and subliminal magazines
But oh, how they hold those possession with the false pretense of a happy heart

They are just empty things
and once we have them

we want them less than the string
holding kites on a day
that is just windy enough to keep it up
while we run away to pull
it onward.

until we are out of breath
or the wind cheats us of everything