TATTERED OLD KITE
A tattered old kite
must have been spring when you got flown
but there's no leaves in sight
She left you to swing up there alone
tangled in branches
held by a string
that once let you fly in trusted breeze
Love I've flown, I know the way it feels
As I walk on the ice
the river is silent as a stone
the same river twice
but the one that we walked into is gone
or so it would seem
the warm summer rain so deeply flows
Love floated me, I know the way it goes
I can't work this key
damn thing is jammed or frozen closed
it's a strange place to be
trying to pry my own windows
But there was a second
a match that was made
a key that is warm inside your purse
Love opened me, I know the way it works.
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