Wednesday, July 23, 2014

I Hope the Balloon is Not

a Metaphor for My Life,

yet perhaps it is.

The toy my wife gave me on my 80th birthday.

It is as colorful as it ever was.
So am I.

It is as brilliant as it ever was.
Well. . .

It is not so buoyantly vigorous as it once was.
Nor am I.

The lift is not what it once was.
Tell me about it.

It is a lot more wrinkled than it once was.
And so am I.

It still represents "80".
I am already 80+.

Yet it is still tethered to its anchor.
As am I.

Still, it is not so full of gas as it once was.
But I am.

Imperfect metaphor.


Sharkbytes said...

That's pretty cute. I think you will last longer than that balloon in all aspects except rotting away. They are pretty indestructible.

Grace said...

Delightful - my first read of the morning and it made me smile...

Secondary Roads said...

I'm more gassy some days than others. Just saying . . .

vanilla said...

Sharkey, you have caused me to wonder if anyone has considered manufacture of mylar burial vaults.

Grace, you smile, and that makes me happy.

Chuck, yeah, me too.

Lin said...

That's a cute post, Vanilla. I like your connection to the balloon. I imagine you sitting there, on that lovely porch, figuring out what you have in common with your balloon. :)

vanilla said...

Lin, just so. That is exactly the way it evolved!

Vee said...

Love this!

vanilla said...

Vee, I thank you!