of the string
tethered and wound
around my hand. Ruts
that cut and bled out from
holding on so tight. I saw
the balloon fly off into
the night, till it exploded
littering the sky.  But not as stars –
just blots with no shine.

I let go
of the reverie
that filled my head
like a drunk that passed out
and plopped into bed. As I awoke
my head heavy as a big bowling
ball. I couldn’t lift at all. I fell
flat on my back till the spring, as
the flowers were blooming and robins
did sing their sweet songs. And I saw
what I missed all along.