finger food and real live music and helium balloons smothering the ceiling. It was crazy, hectic busy and my head and my feet were so sore after a nine hour stint. Once the people had gone and our doors were closed it was time for me to venture homeward.
I took ten red helium balloons with me
because I knew I must,
that they were too bright to be left to deflate alone in the night.
As I raced for my train,
my ten balloons trailed behind me -
fluttering with my hair.
Lots of people stared; bewildered,
and some smiled.
I waited on the underground platform
for my train with my
red balloons bobbing
with the gush of wind as each train passed.
I felt joy tickle my tired toes.
I felt my headache easing.
I climbed onto the train
and tried earnestly to squeeze
myself into a corner without knocking
a young man reading a book
with the balloons.
It didn't really help -
He got knocked around often,
And I felt those balloons had a mind
(and sense of humour) of their own.
Stepping out into the night -
I saw the familiar air and scapes of my neighbourhood;
steps and road and trees,
the crowds outside the falafel shop,
the neon glow of a grocery store on top of the hill,
cicadas gentling buzzing,
the mewing of tortoise shell cat,
and the quiet of a half-hidden park -
Only this time I had a host of floating red friends with me.
I decided to skip home instead of walk.
I hoped they might have stayed up through the night;
but when I woke this morning they were gently resting on the floor; in the state you see above.
But in my memory
they are still bobbing with cheerful abandon
on a crowded metropolitan train platform -
to the puzzled faces of adults,
and children's squeals of delight.