Lighter Than Air
by Liz Gildea

I stand on the corner of two dark, diverging streets
Quietly holding a bunch of balloons
They are of many different colors
The blues just as beautiful as the reds
Some of them burst; some simply die
They fall slowly, and I watch with disappointment
Until they touch the sidewalk
But then, I sigh and smile again
And retrieve a new one from my pocket
And fill it with warm, gentle breaths
I hold on for a while
But the thin ribbon beneath my fingers isn’t enough
To keep it from the inevitable breeze
Which catches me unaware
And lifts the balloon away
I couldn’t bring it back if I tried
Instead, I follow with shining eyes
As it sails on its own
Toward a new sun

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Poem Copyright © 2005 by Liz Gildea

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