Shadows could be silent,
yet they lived where the valley broke,
temporary darkened windows of the marsh.
An abandoned colony, weightless
in its human absence.
As a boy, I flew kites there, felt the tug
on the line as it pulled my arm taut.
Stumbled in the heather, chasing
the whims of the overhead drafts,
releasing reams of cheap string for distance.
Half twisted my ankle as I ran, imagining
myself aflight, knees grazed
against spindly bracken. Gripped the impulse,
my ability to soar effortless, unsought
amongst the village ruins.