for Alice, Frances and Hester*

Clearing the town
of its Sunday streets,
up to the close-cropped
grass of playing fields
green and red and blue
frocked girls pig-tailed
in the Spring wind
brace their yet-to-be-shaped
bodies against the breeze
tugging at their kites
tossed in the air
by invisible hands . . .
Turn and spin,
climb and soar,
float, dive, dive, float
spin, float, spin, climb
and soar