I scribbled lines
doodling
thinking
grieving.
Drawing lines.
What did I draw?
I wanted a symbol.
Something that was mine.
When I drew it, I would know this is what I mean.
Like when I trace a circle in my palm
when I open my hand in prayer.
Symbols speak where there are no words
when words are tired
of saying the same thing.
I looked at my drawing
A kite.
It looked like a kite
I added some extra lines
A box kite flying in the sky
smiling down at me
a structure solid
floating lightly
I smile back; my heart flies, too.
Up it flies.
the string pulls tight
the string goes slack
Broken
It won't stay here.
but my kite flies still
a solid structure
floating lightly
I smile back, I watch it fly away.
And I still smile.
I doodle my kite
Upon my paper
And smile remembering.
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