I dreamt the tail of a kite
was beckoning to us from the park,
white as a dove’s wing
against the backdrop of a cobalt bay,
wind-whipped and boistrous,
dancing to the music of a rare
sun-soaked summer’s day, laughing
(the way we always did) at
under-dressed tourists shivering in
their ‘summer’ clothes,
and now, a massive dragon rises
tastes the salted breeze, circling
and looping like a living rainbow,
among the day’s lesser offerings,
scrying our fortunes in the clear
gazing-ball of a cloudless sky, and
the crowd, sprawled on blankets, coats,
and towels, sighs in concert, leaning
back on grass-damp elbows,
squinting, all eyes turned upward,
soaking in the magic of a Sunday matinée.
(c) 2018, by Hannah Six
Image: Jack Wolf/Flickr (CC BY-ND 2.0)
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