Kay N. Sanders: "How to Let Go of a Kite"

Wait for a day rattled with wind
Climb the ladder to the attic
      stuffed with all

            you hang on to
Find the kite stored
      when your last child
             moved out

Take it to a field
      unbound by wires
Loosen the string
Love how it pirouettes in the wind
Run as though you could catch it

Stop and calm
      your ragged breathing
Relax your hold
Hear it sing
      through your fingers
See how it's carried
      on the wind’s own breath
Wave it over the horizon

"How to Let Go of a Kite" by Kay N. Sanders. Published in Free Verse (January 2009).

Image credit: "Red Kite," oil on canvas, by Lisa Lea Bemish (originally color).

Kay N. Sanders: "Bath, in House Alone"

The unexpected has happened.
Children gone, husband away,

and I alone in hot wash
of rocking water, pores open
to whatever may come.

A whirr, long whine from aging pipes—
cricket? imprisoned insect?
echo of neighbor's saw
through ground not yet frozen?

I think it is my spirit,
coming home,
pushed away as I push
all who would draw near,
that part of me so long lost

that I fear never to find again,
so long lost that I scarce
remember its being.

I have looked
in quake of overwhelming loss,
in vile wind that assails me daily,
in fire of anger, in acrid smoulder,
in bitter lees of dying flame.

I have looked for you,
spirit of myself.
I hear you now
coming home

in the quiet settling of this house,
in the lap of this hot water,
in this being still. 

"Bath, in House Alone" by Kay N. Sanders. © Kay N. Sanders.

Photography credit: "Feet of Woman Taking a Bath," by Corbis Super RF (originally horizontal, color).