Flip – flap – flutter
went the bits of man-made rubber
as he took away the rudder
and he waved goodbye to mother.
‘I’m an engine of the sky,’
sang he, loud, while he sped by,
while his mama dabbed her eye,
while his wobbly wings a-try
To lift, or maybe thrust,
by ignoring drag, or just
By the will of boyish hope,
as his canter speeds to lope;
And seven small balloons
circle ’round, like rainbow moons;
dip and swirl ‘gainst the noon;
flutter, drag to boyish tune
Of hasty dreams, of racing knees
Of birthday dreams on summer breeze.
©2022 Chel Owens
Written in response to Carrot Ranch‘s prompt: balloons on a bumper
September 12, 2022, prompt: In 99 words (no more, no less), write a story about balloons on a bumper. Is it a spectacle, an occasion, an eccentricity? Why are the balloons there? Who is involved? Go where the prompt leads!