On the day after our grandmother’s wake,
I took the kites she had made for us,
Deciding to drive my brother and I to the field
Where I used to watch the sun fall.
We take our kits, and stand right by the hill,
Taking in the view above the trees,
Breathing in the flowers carried by the wind.
The Sunday breeze lifts our kites to the air,
Flinging away from the green field, and out towards the amber sky.
They dance against the sinking orange ball in the distance,
Floating ever so slightly further away from our care.
My grip tightens, ensuring my kite does stay,
While my brother glides with the glades, seemingly flying with his.
The fields carry my concerns and his laughter over to the tall pines,
Beside the whispers of passing time in my mind.
I observe my brother, unbothered by restraints,
With tinge of jealousy of my fleeting rest,
And a pinch of envy of his supposed ignorance.
He rolls, trips, and falls, letting go of the kite,
And it soars,
higher than the trees,
Higher than the peeking sun,
Floating among the scattered clouds.
Guilt marks my mind, a concern of potential interference,
Perhaps a stray push from my thoughts,
Laced with an anxious worry for his joy.
There he lays on the grass, tears running down his cheeks,
Not from sadness, but from laughter,
His infectious energy marking his cheeks red,
And pushing my smile up to mine.
“Why do you laugh?” I asked,
“Do you not worry about what you lost?”
His laughter grows, as does my confusion.
“I was watching how stiffly you held your kite.”
“Oh brother, how will you run with it if you stand so still?”
I turn towards my kite, who only wanted to be free,
Then closely watch my grip loosen,
my nails turning from white, to red, to pink.
Willingly, the kite slips from my grasp,
Dancing and twirling away from me.
I don’t look at it with sorrow,
And neither with glee,
But a sense of hidden peace,
Only obtainable when letting something go,
Something that you held too close.
A single tear curves down my smile,
And onto my still lips.
I lay down beside my brother, watching as the sun began to hide,
Still shining on the kite dancing in the clouds,
And the one catching up to it.
The slow descent of the sun,
Spoke nicely of the once cruel passage of time,
Only shown to me,
For my brother still had some innocence to spare.
We stayed until the white spots were littered across the sky,
And my phone vibrated until I couldn’t ignore it anymore.
We drove back, with our hearts on our sleeves,
And our minds up in the stars.
Gone were our kites, given back to our grandma.
Forever will she be remembered,
For now and ever,
Across the high hills and tall pines,
With a funny little story,
All about time and worry.
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