Kite without a String

Good. About time we broke loose
Without a hand at the end.

So what if we’re even more
Helpless than we were before?

We were built to be lightweight,
To swoon up in a light breeze

And stay there. No one asked us
What we might say for ourselves.

Just haul on us. Let the wind
Make a spectacle of us,

Signal us to each other.
What is the point of a kite?

For a few hours now we’re flying
Free, escaped over the waves.

Icarus was no one’s son,
Just a kite without a string.