Lost Boy’s Balloon @ 7,000 Feet

Peter Funk

You must understand

why I finally stopped waiting:

having only seen

the inside of the garage

and the grass of the yard,

having only shared

conversation with the rakes

and certain forgotten toys,

I couldn’t resist

your father’s fingers

roughly in the tackle

of us both.

I felt for your cower

in my belly.

I had heard whispers,

tender plotting,

while you played.

I misunderstood.

I thought

I would carry you

into the heart

of this melting sky.

If you were here

I would dare you

not to be joyful

amidst all this blue.

I understand now

that certain things

simply have to happen.

Attics will gather the hidden.

We will deceive ourselves

at a misconstrued altar.

We will rise skyward

and wait to descend.

Believe me when I say,

I dreamt a life with you.

Still, in the absence

of your weight

this sky is beautiful.