Oh, what a joy to fly my kite
beneath the silver cloak of night!
The moon a thousand times shall light
its canvas and its strings.
The wind blows it all around—
sometimes straight into the ground!
My mind wanders both to thoughts profound
and to little, silly things.
I pull my kite down on its rope
and peer into my telescope;
doing this, I dearly hope
to see Saturn and its rings.
Flickering before my eyes
are one-and-hundred fireflies.
The owl hoots; the poor-will cries;
the nightingale sings.
The world will turn its cogs and gears;
people will live their dreams and fears;
Look for me one starry night—
I’ll be there, out with my kite.
Featured image by Freepik
Mac Sumner is a musician and educator living in Michigan. Originally from Portland, Oregon, teaching and music have taken him to Cambodia, Canada, Spain, and Italy. He is finishing his MA in classical education at Hillsdale College.
Leave a Reply