Poetry by Tiffany Greco

      Isengardt CC





To My Father Flying the Kite, 1984.
(Love Letter to a Stranger) 

I won’t tell you of our 
drift, of losing you
so long we’d call it
decades; of the gape 
pulling you away and
pulling you away and
pulling you away and 
of our snap, our strain.
I won’t tell you anything
              except kites, 
and a memory’s meadow
drowsing in the westing
sun, dandelion dots waving
before launch and a father
teaching daughter the 
mechanics of flying a kite,
yes, but more - teaching her
how to be exhilarated; 
instructing her in 
strings and sunshine,
in soaring and sky,
in honoring a breeze, 
navigating a rise - my 
father flying the kite,
               only reply, 
tell me something of 
the look in her brand 
new and blue eyes when
she gazes up at the wild
kite in the wild sky, 
yes, but more, when she
looks up to you
what do you see? 




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Tiffany Greco has a Masters of Social Work and work at a statewide nonprofit focused on child welfare advocacy and reform efforts. She lives in Austin, Texas. Her essay “Dead-End Road Redemption” is published in The Groovy Chicks’ Road Trip to Love (Life Journey Press), and she was a recurring guest columnist for The Ithaca Voice in 2015-2015 where she contributed articles on understanding, preventing, and responding to domestic and sexual violence. 
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