tethered to a string
it flies,
ever free
into the early hours of dusk.
the blue and purple triangles
merging as one.  

the times of what has passed,
stolen sweets and mirthful eyes
crinkle in the sunlight.
mindless chatter fills the abyss
as the torrent sea laps at the feet
of the storyteller and the lamb.

little boy, alight with glee
turns to his father
but there,
encompassing the boundless expanse
on the empty field,
not a flower sways.

the sea once turbulent, whispers in his wake.