Balloons Flying High

If courage is
pushing back at the harrowing heartbeat pull
I am a hair tugging lion in the path of a tornado
I have never been so tormented by my own feet
walking in two directions
fiercely seeking some independence
but hoping you’ll stick around for the ride
find me in September’s tall faded grass breathing
it all in and waiting for a storm to turn
this lovely autumn palate to a horse of a different color;
we’re fifty miles into the country side
between the cows and corn and Tracy Chapman
all I want is to reach across the dashboard
kill the engine and confess I have no idea what I’m doing
talk me out of this
if the butt of the joke is commitment I’ve always been the punchline
I don’t know how not to fear being the fool
but I’ve never wanted this with anyone before you
so put em up
help fight off this twirl of terror in my stomach
tell me the twister is just a side effect from years of running in circles
tell me I can put my up feet and kick off my shoes
tell me we’re no other place than home

2 thoughts on “Balloons Flying High

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