Memoirs of a Yellow Balloon

November 16, 2010
By MissyLHeritier BRONZE, Jefferson, New Jersey
MissyLHeritier BRONZE, Jefferson, New Jersey
4 articles 0 photos 0 comments

As I sit here in the garden of reminiscences
I begin to ponder my own memoirs

I am in my family room
I sit on the emerald couch
It is velvety but coarse
I can feel the tiny Alps on my lukewarm skin
The rug is the shade of the crest of a swamp
It is spongy but rutted
The walls are the tan skin of
A lad who has scorched
In the rays of the sun all day

I am no one but me
I am a sister, a daughter
I am not misunderstood
Or taken for granted
I am loved

My sister on my right, a reflection of myself
Her almond locks tied up,
She is ready for the challenge
My mother alongside her,
Bright sapphire pajamas, a game face-
She too has heard the call
My father, sprawled on the recliner to my left
A yellow balloon the size of a wide-eyed puppy
Is raised into the atmosphere
Each time the orb is uplifted
My heart plays follow the leader
We are a family; we are a whole
A simple game with a balloon, somehow so much more

We keep the sphere up in the air as long as possible
“Tap, tap.”

The author's comments:
It started out as a creative writing assignment and became so much more...

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This article has 1 comment.

on Dec. 8 2010 at 9:55 am
This is really such a beautiful poem. I can feel the happiness within each word. A job well done.


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