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-
haled

his dreams

exhaled

his hopes

exhaled

his longings

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

ready
to be released
to seek a home
up
in the clouds

and he placed

his faith

with the last
the very last
breath he held

knotted the end
and
released it

knowing
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
higher


© Frank Prem 2018

Bachelard and me Poem #270: mote song

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