By Ron Bovasso
Photography by Sara Caruso

If I thought a string could hold you, I’d wish you were a kite.

And watch you soar above the world ‘til nearly out of sight.

And when I wished you down to earth, I’d pull the cord in tight

And bring you back to me again, to tell about your flight.

Of all the things you saw from there as you watched me from that height.

And whispered of sweet images, while I held you through the night

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