the balloon

Poem #269 from a series of poems drawn from the imagination and collected as: a Bachelard reverie.

Back to Bachelard and me – Introduction

he placed the end
to his lips
and ex-

his dreams


his hopes


his longings

with the breath
of himself
he inflated his balloon
it was tight

to be released
to seek a home
in the clouds

and he placed

his faith

with the last
the very last
breath he held

knotted the end
released it

with certainty
it would float
high up
and away

so light
it would never let him down

so light
all it could do
was raise him

© Frank Prem 2018

Bachelard and me Poem #270: mote song

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