Poem: What's at the End of My Balloon

 This poem was inspired by a prompt at a poetry workshop I attended last summer at the Audiofeed Music Festival. I just rediscovered it in my drafts!

my wrist

so thin

the flat pleated ribbon snugged tight in a loop

that my mom tied 

so the balloon wouldn't float away.

we'd bought a van

that evening,

the first new car we'd ever had

and it felt fragile

like the balloon that might

slip off my thin, thin wrist

and disappear beyond the 

blaring brightness

of the car lot lights.

owning something is a ponderous burden.

all balloons pop.

~~~