One Day the String Broke

One day the string broke.
The kite fled over the shoulder of the world
But reluctlantly, reaching back in great lunges
As lost kites do, or as a girl running
In a reversed movie, as at each arched step, the earth
Set free, leaps forward, catching
Her further back;
The treadmill doubly betraying,
Remote and more remote.
Now I lie on a west-facing hill in October.
The dragging string having circled the world, the universe
Crosses my hand in the grass. I do no grasp it.
It brushes my closed eyes, I do not open.
That world is no longer mine, but for remembrance.
Space ended then, and time began.