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Coffeehouse UU June 16, 2023
FAIR DAY: Flight of the Balloon Version 4
Fair day came, she was all a flutter,
A day in the fun with just her mother.
Her conveyance, a stroller, umbrella and cramped,
Held her restrained, hunched over, encamped
Into transport too small,
Her limbs overnight, too tall.
Wiggling in the straps when she saw the balloons,
She pulled to chase them in the air as they zoomed,
Lookie, lookie, she cries, a pretty one gone up to the sky!
Oh, the waste of the money, oh the waste of a five.
I want one, Mommy, I want one of my own.
I'll get you one daughter, when we have to go home.
Their money was spent on games of chance,
Winning a few, but really, just losing the cash.
She rode the small rides, Mommy's face flashing by,
Yet, always in her mind, the balloon, how it would fly.
The day got late,
They made their way to the gate.
Mommy bought the balloon, purple, shining, and big,
She placed the precious string in the palm of her kid.
When her little hand reached for the sky to let it go,
Mommy clamped her big paw down and startled with a, No!
You can let it go at the house, but not at the fair.
Five dollars isn’t meant for a brief little affair.
And-the wailing began, and it ceased to desist
Until the van brought them home, at Mommy's insist.
Inside their abode, on that hot autumn day,
The little girl wiped all her tears away.
She let it go finally, sailed the balloon to the ceiling,
It hit...it bounced gaily...in a....loud...latex...killing.
They stood in the shards of the rubberized sphere,
Purple joy dissolved swiftly into synchronized tears.
Mommy held her daughter closely,
Asked her forgiveness, mostly,
For not letting a toddler's whim
Become the greater wisdom.
To have watched that balloon fly.
To have stood, fixed to that sky.
To have let it all go in that moment,
Let it all go-unbroken.
Let it go, there-
In the flight of a balloon, you bought at the fair.
Maid in the City
I sat and watched the signal change
The red to green then red again
My coffee turning cool
In the winter shade of the cafe
On a warm December day.
Walking in white tennis shoes
Thick bottomed trainers
White multi striped trousers stopping at the ankle
She clutched the house plant
Still neon green, newly germinated
Fresh clean pot
A gift, or
Her job
Caring for plants in the stores
Around the little city square
Fresh she was too
With messy braids, bright blonde,
A milk maid in the city.
Her white long sleeved sweater hung over a white collared shirt,
She stopped
To wait
Through the cycle again
Never looking right or left to show us her profile
Just a girl in a tippy toed walk
Crossing the street
With a house plant.
