“Red Balloon,” oil on panel, by Paul Klee, 1922.
by Phil Berry
There’s a silver balloon
Over a post by the road
Where all must pause.
As the anniversary wanes
And the helium leaks
The blind breeze nudges
Its face of crumpled gilt
Into turning stems
Steeped in diesel,
Wired at the midriff
Starved and leaning
As though to retch
In sudden grief.
