Mailing Balloons

September 6, 2008
By Natasha Rieder, Saint Louis, MO

Waiting for the wind,
I shift bits of gravel
With my black and white Chuck Taylor’s
The sunlight shinning on my face

In my hand is a folded note
And tied to that note is a white string
And on the other end of that white string
Is a blue balloon

There are so many other things
I should have written,
Other questions I had,
More things she needed to know

The note is braver than me
It says everything I didn’t
And it doesn’t cry
Or curse or get angry with God
It doesn’t choke on its tears
Or hate the world

The wind starts up again
Letting me know I can let go

The white string slips gracefully
Through my fingers and
The balloon floats gently away
Beyond the trees
Above the power lines
Past the tall buildings

Until it blends in with the
Clear sky and disappears
Into Heaven

Where my mom
Will catch the blue balloon
Tied to the white string
Holding the folded note
That I wrote for her

The author's comments:
My mom died when I was 15 and after she died I actually wrote a note with everything I didn't say while she was in the hospital, tied it to a balloon and let it go.

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