Escapade and Ending

[This poem is from the May 28 meeting, but was today requested to be posted.]

So I bought two kites today.
Soon I'll let them fly away,
Flapping plastic wings,
Tilting and whirling,
Then suddenly
Sprinting air-ways toward the mountains.

Up there in the clearest sky
Where eagles dare not go
They soar,
The two of them,
They soar and don't care where they go,
My kites.

Soon the night clouds are condensing
On their plastic skins.
A storm brews beneath,
Flashing lightning groundwards.
Yet up here, silently lazing
On an updraft,
The kites admire the fireworks.

Then, around midnight,
The first kite plummets,
Snatched out of the sky
By some sinistry.
Flapping delta wings,
Clacking sticks, taut string,
Into the abyss he spins.

Still aloft, his friend flutters,
Horrified,
Then dives down,
Flapping for velocity.

Down in the darkness there is no sign,
No tell-tale trace,
No lingering line,
But a little bird, chirping,
Working its tiny wings.
Then the kite sees
In its beak, a string!

Shaking with rage,
She dives at the bird,
Who cries in defense
"I didn't know! I didn't think!"
Then the bird drops the string
And the kite realizes
Her friend's peril.

Chasing the falling string-end
She plunges
Through the misting clouds,
Just shy of lightning,
Into warmer air,
Splattering gnats.
Down, down! Cursing gravity's weakness
And her own lightness.,
Soon a wooded valley looms;
Soon she pulls up
And skims above the trees,
Searching for her friend's
White and yellow livery
Until she finds it
In a tangled heap
Atop the quaking aspen.

With a flap of wings
She perches
Beside her crashed friend's frame.
"It was beautiful,"
He whispers,
"Entirely worth the pain."
He lifts his crooked wing
One last time
Then lets out the sigh of death.

Then she, the other kite,
Shivers, and gazes at the wreckage
Until a quiet rain drizzles and
Sneaks down her face.
Or did she shed a tear?