T H O S E
B A L LO O N S
Those balloons that gave us our minutes of fame and good fortune, without us they were nothing but a sky full of dreams, ideas floated. With fabric bloated and heated by dancing flames burning the very air we breathe, we shared life and breathed bigger and better. Those balloons arising somehow becoming weightless, uplifting into the mighty firmament. Elements uniting us carbon, hydrogen, nitrogen, oxygen – combining in fire and water, or cloth and wicker or red blood and hard bone. Those balloons that took us out and about and around the world in a whirlwind of unforgotten moments. Foolish and frippish, clumsily delicate, soft yet somehow dangerous, soaring, majestic. Those balloons that greeted us at days’ dawning and dusks’ coming. Bringing joy, tempting disaster as we faded come night’s descent
Those balloons casting their long shadows over our short lives, lifting us from the past and floating us into the future, uplifted our spirits and bodies to show us another place. A place that I shall call crazy imperfection
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