The points of the kite tilt to the groundTurn and turn, air supports and thenNeglectsAllows a collapse before collectingUp the wings and fragile framework, again.Tethered, it must land, it must returnWe watch, a small crowdSmoking cadged fags, mouths full of cheap ciderSwigged back, heads tipped up, Eyes narrowed, watching a sky the colour of washing…
