The Man Who Was Never Surprised

by rebsnugs

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.