The Green Balloon
A green balloon had fallen to the ground.
Its color glowed as the daylight changed and ebbed.
Its string was sticking to the rain-wet road.
With every little breeze, it seemed to fight
to free itself—to fly beneath the vault
of rain clouds racing in the somber sky.
On looking at that green balloon, I felt—
There lies a one that’s much like you and I.
2016 August 21, Sun
Brooklyn, New York