Dusks slights
the wind flickering
those stars of
wise sparks
and wavering wick
that mirror of spears
vails of teasing flaunts
a kite with taught rigour
still carves blind
a stroke upon
its sail of masts hung by shreds of
papered edge and rough cloth
are lit by a lasting flame -tipped
claw inside a nest
first to gape at
the final port
and last to forget
an endless trail