Flying a kite, up in the sky,
The winds of March carry it high.
Way above the power lines,
Soaring in the open air.
Above live oaks with Spanish Moss,
Flying high without a care.
Flying higher than the clouds,
It's tail whipping in the wind,
Flying high, and flying proud,
Like somebody's feathered friend.
Flying a kite on a windy day,
Soaring in the month of May.
6/3/10 29 palms ca.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i really like your poem, it made me smile :) it's really rare to find nice, pure poems anymore you know? good job man. =]