Kiting (edited)

[DavidF]

I really enjoyed the delicious 'role reversal'. Your Bonnie Brae sounds a lot like my Banockburn, more grim than bonnie.

I am not skilled enough to offer much so sorry if this is meagre or obtuse.

Kiting

In Bonniebrae a field is split by kills
and hedged by thickets on the southern side,
a vagrant patch of long untended graves
and then the darkest forest man has known.

On a Spring day with wind just strong enough         (the triplet (231) made me stumble at the start of this line)
to bloom a sail and launch a skiff we gathered -

a score of us to test our skills at flying
kites like fauns might dance a mating dance.
I brought the finest kite you’ll ever see -
a hand-painted red komodo dragon                         ( I am presumed to be gasping ? Resolution of above will help)     
with double wires and a twenty-five foot tail.              or something to pace the end of the dragon line)

I slowly let her up and gave her reign
then deftly pulled her aft to paint the sky.
I spent two hours teaching her to roll                      
and slowly build to form a somersault.                                  (roll and somersault aren't working for me)

Then sometime after noon we traded places           
and I was high above and breeching clouds -           ( The highlight of the poem and the first two unexpected lines
a just-fledged falcon drunk on swoops and dives,       were thrilling then I couldn't pick my way through the next two. 
I spun and dipped held only by my line.                     and maybe this is where it should be most lyrical                                                                                and        straightforward)

But fickle kites don’t have the nerve for kiting
as men don’t have the buoyancy to fly
so who’s to say whose fault, the bridle buckled,            ( this reads like a question  )   
the guy wire snapped, I keeled and then I tumbled
back home, my body broke against the ground.