The Man Who Was Never Surprised
Balloons tethered to a post tug gently at their cords
A latex eclipse of the setting sun
I wander past their shadow, a cluster of dark orbs
That dance upon the dusty road.
A blackbird calls my name and swoops to inspect
And warn me of the foreigners
Never flinching in the face of a stranger, I smile
And wonder how they reconcile with gravity
I know to cut their shackles would be murder
But their bondage pulls at my heart
Who will take them home tonight and beam at their brilliance?
The one who ties the knot must also set them free.