coming to terms - kites as goodbyes.

We had to go to that lawn
before leaving the island,
sit on that white mile of walkway leading to
the sea-stained castle. College was over.
Everything we had known for a long time
was left in Rochester: a capsule collection
of party dresses and 4 years' worth
of pictures taken down from my walls in 1 day.
Of course it was sad. The symbolism of that sunset,
strong as the wind lifting the fleet of kites, sweeping
across the plain of prickly grass,
over-sunned as our shoulders -
we sat looking at the sea and the seaside houses
until dark, tracing far-away paths of fabric fauna.

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