The Young Men

My Take

DiVoran Lites

Painting by DiVoran Lites

The boys aren’t children anymore,
Yet they race kites along the shore,
The splashing surf roars up, away,
While twilight steals across the bay.
So tall and strong and smart these two,
There is nothing they can’t do.
And so they string a three-tiered kite
And loop-the-loop into the night.
When tails get tangled, kites swoop down
To trail the sand along the ground.
In silhouette the men stand tall.
And, as the kite begins to fall,
They run to lift it, set it free,
Performing high for all to see
Against a burnt-sienna sky,
An acrobat a-flying high.
The boy’s are men now – how they grew!
And there’s just nothing they can’t do.

Tags: Flying kites, Poem, Poetry, Youth to manhood