NINE MINUTES

You come and stay for hours,
amidst the psychedelic flowers
and impossible scenarios.
Running past streets and barrios
with Joses and Marios, looking
for solace in a nightful of frightful
turns and plot twists. You’ve wished you
can finish a complete thought,
but your REM cycle keeps running out of gas.
In the foggy distance, a wail. It never fails.
It seems just when you get
to the good part of your dreams you have to depart,
trying to restart every nine minutes for an hour
until your snooze alarm comes back to call.

THE ASCENT OF LIKE SOULS

Float and soar just like a balloon,
to rise right before our eyes
as we watch your grand ascent.
You were meant to reach
new heights. Your flight
will take you far. You are
what we all aspire to be.
We are all balloons!

(C) Walter J. Wojtanik

dVerse Poets Pub – Quadrille #29: Balloon