Come forth, there are kites slipping away from

The half opened backpack

And a-one by a-one before they reach

Sky or sand

They are yours in mid-flight

They are for playgrounds and kid fights

And also for the little cat on the lamp post, hissing

There are also many for the woman waiting at the door by the

Hanging flame yellow lantern

And for the old man hobbling on these cobbled roads

On a stick he long used

With beady eyes, seedy eyes, greedy eyes.

Then the old woman in the sky says

Clouds bring me that pretty patterned silk bird

Paper and word

On its fluttering tail

But the clouds say, granny these are for stars to light up

And the Moon to sleep on, not for you, not for you.

Then the kids laugh their toothy laugh

Then they cut the strings away

And holler, old woman, old granny have our loveliness

We have plenty to share

Plenty to bear

And the lady's backpack is still open

What falls from it? Asks the young man crossing the bridge

His eyes blind to all but his lover

Under lantern light

And the kids run circles around him

They say pink kites, yellows and whites and kindness falls from it

Older brother

What else, what else, the stumpy grandpa screeches

And hope and butterflies but which comes first

We would not know, we could not tell

And love? Is there love?

Ah that! That you have to give me, old father

The lady with the bag turns at last and says with a smile.

Love, you have to give, for all the kites and the kindness

And the butterflies

And some fish for my hissing cat.

Long after she has left the city streets

They asked me, did she get love?

And in response the old lady in the sky said look up

And the sky was full of kites and butterflies.