Green seas and memories misted over.
Whispered melodies exhaled on the strings of your Pawpaw’s guitar.
My legs are sore from running but there’s sand between my toes and wind whistling against my cheeks,
And I feel like a red and blue kite without a string,
Exploring the vastness of a clear day.
I sleep on the wind, I feast upon the clouds and stars.
My world is the warmth of the sun and the summer breeze smiling down my face.
But kites have strings
And autumn comes after,
And warmth turns into snow and sobriety.
Yet, I still smell the sweat and sand,
And, in closing my eyes, my world is like a red and blue kite.