Way back in the early 60’s,
My best friend and I rode our bikes,
To our local neighborhood market
With pop bottle money to buy kites.
We stretched the unrolled paper
Out on the numbered sticks,
I just hoped my kite would soar,
My friend wanted his to do big tricks.
Our kites both soared to great heights
Until his kite string ensnared mine…
It cut my kite loose and crashed it,
I felt my friend had crossed the line.
The incident ended our friendship,
Immediately there and then.
Anger controlled our emotions,
We never spoke to each other again.
Sixty years later I have regrets,
Maybe it’s just the glass of wine…
But I still think of the entangled kite strings
And wish our lives were still entwined.
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