Let out the string to fly a kite
Which first escaped when I was eight
And, squinting, lose it in the light.
Those Kansas winds would fairly cry
(Though you’d lie and call it fate)
Let out the string to fly a kite.
Thought you’d come and hold on tight;
You left me with that sky I hate
And, squinting, standing in the light.
I was too young to win a fight
Against a wind that begged for mate,
Let out the string to fly a kite.
With eyes made hard from bitter sight,
I sought my childhood in the day
And, squinting, lost it in the light.
I can’t forgive what you thought right,
To pawn me off and then to say,
Let out the string to fly a kite
And, squinting, lose it in the light.
Finally, a villanelle I like.