the temperament of afternoons

The weightless delirium.
by Tennae Maki

The afternoon that the kite got caught in
the laundry line was the same day that I’d
awoken and heard all the birds singing.

There was not a sign in the sky nor level
in temperature that could determine why:

Why the kite should veer away, against the
way of the wind, or how a flock should
share lyrical gasps of air.

For if it were not of these coincidences I
wouldn’t have thought twice about the
temperament of the sky.

Kites were no different than other things
of flight.

But if moths feared owls, as butterflies did,
so might a balloon slip through the desperate
hands of one who held on so defiantly.

And then, perhaps, so I might also taste the
seeds and spores that filtered through the
open gap in the window.


Tennae Maki is a weekend writer that works at an architecture firm. She’s also the volunteer audio archivist for an arts radio station.


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I am a dreamer, as well as a doer, who lives in the North Georgia mountains. I started my publishing journey August of 2013, have had moderate success, but my utmost passion is my "daytime" job, which is working with adults who are constantly striving to better their lives as they obtain the GED credential.

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