Blue City

Blue City

Louisa DeHart

Kites comb the rafters
Of the sun’s roost,
Vying for glory,
A wisp of bliss,
A promise tucked behind
The white stag’s pink ear.
She says to me, heaven is near,
Smiling lazily, her hands
Linger in a bucket of water,
She whispers low—
Heaven is already on its way.
Her words hush and swish
So only the fallen kites can hear.

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Louisa DeHart
Teacher

Louisa lives with her husband and daughter. This is her first published work. 

Photography by Gavin Spear