By Jane Blanchard
A sunburned boy
shifts his less than
in the hot sand
while watching
his father struggle
to launch a new kite.
“Try again, Daddy,”
he says in what
becomes a refrain.
Daddy obeys,
but heavy humidity
defeats every effort.
Finally, the winded
father responds,
“We’ll try again
tomorrow, son.
We’ll get it up
then, I promise.”
Footprints away,
I pray for a change
in the weather.


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