Kites It’s light that first attracts my eyes, a glint of fire overhead, and then the tug of rufous thread unreeled from earth to air – where twinned, entwining helixes unite the rhyming pair in soaring dance. Down here, a moor-patterning grid of pylons, masts and wire-mesh extends its vast design. The kites, astride the bypass now, with fourfold wings and forking tails divide the sky between them. Swathes of edgeland caught within their wheeling span, I see them scout and circle, scan the fields and tonsured hill with pinions poised, then pivot there, anticipate the kill and swoop. As daylight falls I stand entranced beneath the reddened sky, a single figure, steeple-high, exposed on open ground for savage, all-pursuing love to run its rings around.
Daniel Gustafsson has published volumes in both English and Swedish, most recently Fordings (Marble Poetry, 2020). New poems appear in Trinity House Review, The Brazen Head, North American Anglican and The York Journal. Daniel lives in York. Twitter: @PoetGustafsson Website: www.poetgustafsson.wordpress.com