The air is restless,
a kite tugging at its string.
He leans into the wind,
bones lengthening faster than his shadow.
Laughter spills from the street;
a language he is only just learning,
half-shout, half-secret.
In the mirror,
a stranger waits:
eyes lit with something unspoken,
hair falling into rebellion.
The door slams behind him,
not in anger,
but in urgency;
as if the world might vanish
if he doesn’t catch it now.
Pavement sparks beneath his shoes,
friends orbiting like loose planets,
the day a drumbeat
that swallows his name whole.
.
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Author:
crypticbard (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: June 4th, 2026 06:16
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 20
- Users favorite of this poem: Tristan Robert Lange

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Comments6
This one seemed to me Cryptic a series of connected snapshots of not only action but emotion and something beyond. There seems a theme of connection and the whole poem is filled with excitement and urgency. Lovely my friend
Yes, there is that and that is its major movement. Those were the frenetic days, both in play and in real life situations. Thanks for picking up on thatπποΈ
My pleasure my friend
deep write my friend, much enjoyed
Probably just a tad deeper than skin. Deep enough, though. Thanks, my friend πποΈ
most welcome my friend, much enjoyed read
Good write A.
Thanks O
Arqios, this took me right back to that strange season of life where everything feels urgent and alive. Friends become entire worlds, every day feels important, and you are constantly reaching toward something just beyond your grasp. This resonated with me. Great job on this, my friend. πΉπ€ππ―οΈπ¦ββ¬
Yes! Weren't those the days!? Not even time to catch a breath or a thought, sleep was like charging a phone from red to barely green, just yellow even and running off again. A frenetic, fun, and terrifying impromptu itinerary. Those were the days indeed! πποΈ
All things come into our lives Rik.
Andy
The do, donβt they! Thanks, AndyποΈππ»
Don't think I ever owned a proper kite. Twigs and paper, string and wind was all you needed.
Then they invented girls and the world changed forever.
Ah, got ya. Never had a store-bought kite. Perhaps that one Christmas, but memoryβs rusted over now. And yeah girls are at that border lineπͺ ποΈππ»
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