Inspired by all 4 images

The Kite

The kite reflected in her eyes,
black on green,
the perfect day before the rest,
the remembered spring of
pear blossoms and laughter
that echoed over meadows
the color of scallions and parsley,
the lilac scent in the air.

The kite was a fledgling
pushed untethered from the nest,
and like an eagle, it caught the thermals
to glide high out of sight. While we were sad
to lose it–but happy it was free.

For Paul Brookes’ Poetry Month Ekphrastic Challenge. You can see the art and read the other poems here.