A glorious summer day they
took me
to the park to play and
it was oh so lively full of
people kids and dogs
and big smiles all around

Daddy definitely wasn’t rich
Yet Mom she was good looking
I was a big-eyed kid of 5
skinny with bones showing
hyperactive as a squirrel
on cocaine.

There’s nothing I wished more
on that day than hold
a floating balloon by its string.
Dad wasn’t pleased with the
long waiting line but it wasn’t
an expensive gift. So he stayed.
He got it. It was blue!

I held it yes, for the best part
of two minutes and even though
attached to my finger I did
let it slip through
stunned at its vertical flight.

So it fell into the deep blue sky
smaller and smaller, I had
to squint my eye – I lost it,
never to be seen again.

Daddy, what happens to
balloons in the sky?

They go up and up and up and up
and then eventually son
they all go “pop”!

Because mine didn’t
– I just knew it didn’t –
I lost that total trust I had
in him – that man – my dad
on that blue balloon day.

Here I am today
many years later plumbing
endless blue depths above
for something that flew
deep
deep
down.