The Kite
by Harry Behn
How bright on the blue
Is a kite when it's new!
It snaps its tail
Then soars like a ship
With only a sail
As over tides
Of wind it rides,
Climbs to the crest
Of a gust and pulls,
Then seems to rest
As wind falls.
When string goes slack
You wind it back
And run until
A new breeze blows
And its wings fill
And up it goes!
How bright on the blue
Is a kite when it's new!
But a raggeder thing
You never will see
When it flaps on a string
In the top of a tree.
Here are some of us reading the poem:
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