|
|
The Kiteman by Sofi Papamarko A huddled group of children Go over their game plan. It is my turn. Whispered warnings echo In my head. I ignore them and Walk to him. Under the shadow of a baseball cap His stubbled face is set In intense concentration, As if flying a kite were the hardest thing In the world to do. I am less than a yard away from him now. He sees me And utters a friendly "Hullo!" His voice startles me So I run and am met By the cheers of the other children. This was our game. Now I wonder how he felt Being approached, And taunted, And feared. I wonder if his kite was his escape From a world he didn't understand. Today his kite is a patriotic red and white And I am suddenly struck with nostalgia For he was a child when I was a child And although I've grown up A child he will remain. Long ago fears forgotten I sit on the grass And watch him fly. |