tangled in the trees. Following
a breeze she let herself go far
as the string on her end let
her. Wetter than the grass in spring

she flew before she budded
wings. Now the diamond with
a tail has no ocean for her to
sail. High in the tree like a grackle,

strung by a nylon shackle
she flops. Branches cutting holes
as she drops in her blue and red
cloth. Swinging by a limb among

the green. Many wanted to fly
her. But now she's hung like a worn
out tire tied to the tree. And the leaves
left her bare as snow covered her tears.