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Climbing the Kite String
by Kristina Woodhill
talking
telling
touting
tittle-tattle
tales
stepping them up
like Jacob's Ladder
without the god
incredible,
amazing,
best
of
the
best
claims
built
atop
another
raising
the
pitch
a fork of a voice
punctures any
cautious cloud
with a conscience
pushing aside
northern lights'
nebulous, flowing
sensuous nature
no way to cop a feel,
brag creator-ship
of gaseous particles
making love to solar winds
shooting stars
are inconsequential blips
one stays away
from any truth
that might burn
grasping fingers
revealing
their guiding
goal
seeking
superlative
sky scraping
self-serving
statusphere
08/17/2019 Posted on 08/17/2019
Copyright © 2025 Kristina Woodhill
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 08/18/19 at 06:56 PM Kristina, as a former kite flyer, really enjoyed this piece and the varying alliteration throughout. |
| Posted by Laura Doom on 09/11/19 at 11:18 PM Statusphere - a delicious touch of creativity. I seem to remember you having written about kites previously - was it related to your time in Afghanistan? Anyway, reminds me that poetry, in the right hands, tends to be a metaphor for anything and everything. |
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