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Their streamers are horses manes Wild and free in the wind release, capture release, capture The kites rattle inside the box Tapping against the sides The red screams for a second chance to fly The yellow whispers quietly for freedom Outside I hear the laughter of a mother Mingled with the desperation of her son His round brown eyes attempting to call the kites back to the ground Her soothing voice sweeps across the hill A young girl, the daughter, sings As she skips behind them Picking her scented daisies I glance through the window Adjusting my world to near perfection The daisy stands out against her polka dotted dress The dainty girl reaches for a bouquet of flowers As she throws them up in the atmosphere (ting ting-ting, ting-ting, ting-ting “It’s indirect, indiscrete, it’s inconsistent, incomplete”) I capture And release release release


2009-10 Parallax  
2009-10 Parallax  

Idyllwild Arts Academy Student Literature/Art Magazine 2009-10