Some ones party balloon Escaped from a small hand Clings to a branch outside my bedroom Window It leaving its party too soon a shimmering mylar rodent string tail caught- a runaway panting in a trap. I want to cut it down and pick up the party before all life drains out - slowly. I can’t reach though like so many plastic grocery bags drifting waste bobbing above my grasp artifacts of past communions floating by. The shine of ‘Happy’ collapses time Upside down string flaccid Winter its only breath- a shuddering in cold bursts of grey. Slowly Spring green molds over it decay I forget As it eases into waves of softer air. buds form And robins pull worms In its shade’s exhausted judgement. Summer breezes bounce it’s flaked shine briefly between The flickering Of leaves “I’m still here” it winks Until the Fall sheds its cover leaves float down in spirals revealing shimmer- gone- grey and dull. life and air No longer animate. Spreading apart into beautiful diminishing frail shards Nature takes its turn small hands fashion it into a squirrels nest the moveable Birthday Party – long over. It’s empty string dangles nothing to lift it. A boy still searching the sky to grab for its return, Sorry but, The squirrels seem to be Happy