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| Thursday, June 15, 2006 |
| White Balloon |
It floats high above the windless city-
jigging and waving at the rooftops below.
A solitary white balloon.
She can't help but wonder from whence it came.
Is it a prayer or wish sent up by a mid-day mourner..
or one with little hope?
Are the children gathering round the ice cream truck purchasing their creamy sticks of delight,
spending the coins of a daytime television addict that is compensating for their loss of helium filled joy?
Perhaps it disentangled itself from a sign advertising a yard sale...
She watches its lazy ascent,
her eyes squinting against the burning sun's reflection off puffy white clouds.
It drifts upward, against a sea of blue, occasionally camouflaged, but ever present.
She wonders if she might borrow that balloon,
sending with it her own misery and pain.
She concentrates- pushing her anguish at the pinprick apparition in the sky.
For a moment she feels the weight of her burden;
feels it lifting and lazily floating on the breeze.
A door slams!
A cheer rises up from the nearby park.
A clock chimes four.
She snaps back to her tiny corner of the world.
She crushes a sugar ant under her cigarette butt, cursing because she should have the willpower to be finished with their poison.
She thanks the heavens her death will not be antagonizing burning hot like his was...
then considers her habit.
Balancing on her high heals, she heads back to the grind. |
posted by katmandusuekookachoo @ 4:51 PM  |
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