Balloons, Sunday 18 March 2018

In the pre dawn half light the headlights

wash the road, and maybe the kangaroo

was mesmerised but knew where she had to go.

I swerved and almost collided with a cab

and the young one followed her mother as

she knew she must and slammed into my wing.

I braked hard, and she bounced off then bounded

and collapsed by the roadside, her tail

rising and falling, once, twice, three times

signalling the end before she'd barely begun.

I wondered whether the mother waited

dismayed like me, waited for her young one

to rise. There are those who would say

oh well, they're a pest, it's only one less...

And so, I drove slowly down to the lakeside

to await the gentle rise and drift

of the colourful balloon spectacle.

Down there the day was peaceful and still

with sunrising walkers and joggers,

and images mirrored upon the water,

which betrayed the image in my mind.

And I waited for the balloons to come

and play upon the placid lake.

And I waited for balloons to come.