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
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.