"Kite Strings"

Your eyes track blinking signals as we speed along
On a road with no wind wafting us forward except
Using up ten minutes under stars, unraveling

Seconds out of open windows like string.
Hold that pose, close your eyes and say the magic words,
“Open sesame?” and perhaps fly outside, under even our own radar into
Uncharted seas. No sign of familiar fish acrostics here.
Let you drive? How hard can it be, to let you lead the
Dance? Apparently surrendering the

Kite string goes against my personal beliefs. Odd,
I swerved to evade a butterfly and hit a bird instead;
Steady my hands, why won’t my fingers
Stop shaking.

Maybe that means I shouldn’t drink this
Early in the day, but caffeine usually

Aids my creativity, amplifies my energetic gifts,
Glistening spools of words running down fingers, leaving
Aged coffee constellations on the kitchen floor
In no particular pattern. But are there truly
No portents to be found in these sunroof stars?



Well, I'm not in any poetry writing class this semester, but some of my friends are getting me back into writing. I'll post what I write, but it'll probably be pretty erratic pacing.