Amongst the blowing
Taller than the stilts
Of said trees.
Or in this case,
A single pink balloon.
It’s prologue is written and
Buried in some
Lost & found container
(A treasure chest would be to easy to find)
At the bottom of
Away from the balloon entirely.
To its audience,
In this case,
Barefoot tree climbers alike
Who fight with sticks that
It has become
A fiscal responsibility.
Bobbing from branch to
(Like an apple, bobbing in both confusion and water)
The unpredictable likes of the
And the pointy tips of the acorns that
They so desperately desire.
Throngs of nouns,
Engaging in various verbs,
Pay no attention to the isolated balloon.
And continue to engage in various other sciences.
So many chemists,
So many ceramicists,
Could easily draw up a plan to spare the
Helpless balloon from
And as gradual deflation begins,
And the balloon looks like it is melting
(Like a misplaced scoop of ice cream)
To the few,
Who are now paying attention.
Who are now licking their lips.
And still no eulogy is written.
The death of the balloon is
Accompanied only by the roaring of chainsaws
Rattling sound of woodpeckers.
That solemnly believe in uncovering what is not theirs.
The balloons goodbye is the third song sung that day.
A tertiary soliloquy,
For such a noble gas,