a poem
She looks up from the shore to the sepia skyline,
eighteen black balloons in hand.
Peering into the
sea reflecting the bright orange sunset,
she catches a whiff of the water.
Its salty scent is notably robust.
Dandelions rain down from the clouds
and land atop the waters, fluttering, fluttering, fluttering
downwards. The tone of
the silhouette skyscrapers fade
to olive drab; the falling dandelions
begin to brown and
fold in. Apple cores surface to the shore
at Mable’s feet and she
slowly steps backwards. She inhales
deeply for a few moments, and
forgets to exhale. She grabs the one live dandelion from the sand
below her, and holds it tightly in
her left hand. She closes her eyes and counts,
“…one…two…three…four…”
She opens her eyes and begins to float up, clenching her
balloons, going higher and higher
into the clouds; cogitating her ups and downs,
she gazes into the planet’s layers.
Ezra Hillel Kronfeld is a contemporary writer and poet from Maryland. His work was recently featured on 1947 Journal and his chapbook Waking Up & Other Poems is available now at Amazon and other retailers.
Eunoia Review 