It’s a simple story really
about a girl who could fly
and did so well
until that day
she fluttered and fell
too close to the sea
and is trapped ever since
at the crest of its waves
held there by surface tension . . .
© Chagall, 2013
Tag Archive: downdraft
Somebody’s cut the line –
damn it, I dozed!
I’m rising way too fast,
this is not good.
I have no rudder to steer,
no weight to hold me to earth.
Wild careen across cloudscape,
sideways then up then sideways and up.
A monstrous downdraft deals a concussive blow,
stops the ascent dead in its rise,
propels me for a moment into the envelope of the balloon,
barely missing the flames.
My crown-lines appear staked to nearby clouds,
but I know that can’t be.
I stabilize with open jets of whisper burners,
aglow in night-blue sky.
I have no way back down,
except to plummet, finally fall.
But instead, I simply dangle,
cautious not to breathe.
© Carlos Chagall, 2013
Alphabet City 