Leaves glide
Undecidedly
In a breeze

Blown bubbles
Rise beyond
Ones vision

Smoke updrafts
To join passing
Clouds

Balloons fly high
To see if there is
A silver lining

Kites pretend
To want freedom
Yet mostly remain

Boomerangs rush
Off as though they
Will never return

Rain ponds, but
Slowly, it begins
To evaporate

Confetti falls just
Like snow, although,
It is unable to escape

People grow roots,
Then they anchor, in,
The forests of familiarity