By Suddenly, two orange delta kites
with multi-coloured tails, rise above
the families on the beach – looping the loop,
separately, together, flying
in parallel, swooping, soaring, the air
thrumming like a drum roll against the fabric –
flown faultlessly by an elderly man
with glasses, tee-shirt, shorts, dark socks, trainers
and a baseball cap. A woman, distracting
an infant, points to the skies – otherwise
no one else seems to have seen something amazing:
a grandma fetches ice creams; a youth
in lycra is texting; a small girl in pink
continues her digging.
baseball capdrum rollkiteslooping the loopsoaringsomething amazingswoopingtee-shirt.the air thrummingtrainers
John Huddart
September 2, 2013Who can deny that there is something special going on here? A poem about hopes, exhilaration, isolation, generations, absorption, skill, indifference. Ice creams are a reward, and the air produces that telling reverberation of applause.
Somehow that reference to digging at the end produces a ghostly image of Heaney which I find ironic, engaging and somehow, in the circumstances, poignant.
KIT
September 8, 2013The span of ages, enough sense of place so I am there – a poem to treasure and share.