Blue Balloon

- wisdom is - we do not
remember being babies
- consciousness unformed -
fledgling thoughts fly out through
unsealed fontanelle – yet
I recall the confines
of my pushchair – mother
showed me a balloon - so
big and blue - it filled my
fish-eyed field of vision
- I reached out but it was
gone – gone up into sky
of bigger blue – arising
speck amongst a flock
of coloured dots – mindless
as a cloud – it was a
race – balloons were racing
- so I realise much
later – imposing
rationale upon a sense
of loss – I want it back -
I do not want to win
a race – I want it back
- I want my blue balloon –