tagNon-Erotic PoetryPink Balloon

Pink Balloon


The wind pulls the pink balloon
from my daughter’s hand
to send it spinning.
Dancing into a rain swept sky.

From the perspective
purchased with four decades
I can see the beauty in its freedom
but to my crying inconsolable child
all that she sees
is the immediate loss.

In love we are all children.
No matter how my fatherly mind
tries to explain
to my childlike heart
the dancing pink against blue
the child sees only
black or white
truth or lie
pain or joy.

I’ll never regret
buying a balloon
despite the tears being inevitable
when you purchase the smile.

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byBelegon© 8 comments/ 6485 views/ 3 favorites

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