Tethered

A balloon suspended in the shuffling skies,
drifting into haze - dissolving into shadows;
suffused with a yearning too long denied.

Helplessly tethered like a blot on the carpet;
unable to recall the dreams of the night before.
Overcome in the face of a dazzling kindle.

The sails have been cropped - the bird grounded.
Perceiving in horror, the void caving inward;
inexorably lured toward the earth’s gritty kiss.

The flight plan altered, the pilot missing -
perhaps riding on a wind chime; enmeshed
in the flowing music, singing another song.

Waiting and watching and listening -
illuminati of leaves frisking atop car hoods,
sounds of distant engines conducted across grasses.

Entranced by the chorus rebounding over houses,
flustered by a squirrel’s prattle. Spanish moss
swaying in lingering strands of gray lace.

The rhythms of the day exponentially rising -
morning glides toward noon, the day warm and shining.
Shadows of voices emerge from behind blank doors.

They tell me nothing, there is nothing to be said
about the solacing murmur of riffled trees;
a reminder of forces to that which was conceded.

Flinging a net into the heavens, grasping for
the castaways. The lost fowl’s molten feathers -
evanescing desires scattered across dimensions.


© 2000 Melissa Songer