passthrough

I believe this was written while in Japan several years ago

 

We flick through the pages
All numbered wrong
Fold and unfold
Your pretty cranes
Tiny droplets
Whisk by on the window
Stream them fleet away
You hurry by
With yellow balloons
Even though it is raining
Sidewalk puddles reflect your face
Or the shadow of every other Monday
Carefully draw letters in each
Too-easy crossword
You are fighting back
Against the wind that screams
Between the skyscrapers
And the tousled cryptic pages
Someone once told you
‘life is not about flowers’
but just for today
you bend at the waist
to peer closer at them
that oil-tinted reflection in the puddle
goes on
in its hand a bunch
of yellow balloons

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