kites
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The sound of the gale woke them up before dawn warm bunk beds behind they tiptoed through the darkness across the hallway downstairs through the kitchen of the old, old house back where they picked their rubber boots and two kites made with bamboo splinters see-thru coloured paper string and old socks for tails out the backdoor in silence they stood outside the old, old house half asleep half in awe against the gale they lifted their kites and saw them soar and plunge and snap their strings and disappear as dawn broke |