Balloon Life

Balloon Life short poem

Photo by hans s

I remember telling my mother
(this was a lifetime ago)
“It asked me to let it go:
it had something important
to do.” There was that look
on her face, the deep frown
of accountancy, another
couple of dollars doled out
to disappear with the prevailing
wind, then she started me
walking with a jerk on my arm
that electric pain bringing
an emphasis to my whimper
with every stiff-legged step.
The growls and stink of the zoo
whipped by unregarded
and I was slung into the circus
of the Chevy’s back bench seat
to cower in a corner under threat
of the big block engine’s
heavy revving all the way home.

It came back last night, not
the red of memory but a sunset
orange. It had lost its tether
of string so it beat at the rain-bleary
window with the hard knot
of its tail until I let it in. This thing,
my best friend for less than an hour,
had returned when all others
had abandoned me. It floated steady
in my middle-aged room then
came close as I collapsed in embrace
around it. It held me buoyant
and the arthritis ache and retirement worry
darted into a corner and drowned
in dust. My mother never believed
it would return, only I did, and this time
when it goes, I go with it.

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a poet from Seattle Washington USA. His poetry has appeared in print in publications such as Bellowing Ark, Point Nopoint, and most recently in Contraposition magazine. When not writing poetry he is a Human Resources professional, a repentant glutton, and a novelist specializing in the weird-fiction genre.
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