Blue Kite

Blue Bag may not be a bag at all,
Blue Bag might be a kite,
A kite that got stuck,
Faltering, abrupt
And left in the branches I see.

The storm un-tangled
The mind de-mangled
A kite who’s journey stopped short.
The wind is picking up again
Storm clouds hover again.

But soon they fly off,
Leaving Blue Kite still aloft –
At home in the branches I see.
Thinking on times it flew
Remembering the times it flew.

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