Oh, you fearless high flyer,
Tree crasher,
Nose diver,
Loop the looper.
Where is your home,
You homemade wonder?
Who is the hero holding
your fate?
Yesterday’s newspapers,
twigs and twine
Loosely bound with flour
paste.
Rag bag tail of red and
paisley
Waiting for the wind to
Do its splendid magic
Lifting you so you can
dance
Among the clouds,
Making gawkers strain
their necks
With careless wonder at
your ease.
And I, your pilot,
Groundsman, soul mate,
I am the master of your
sky.
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