Poem Poutporri

Dredging the archives, intermittently contributing to them.

Little Ball

Hello little ball full of air.

Where have you been?

I’ve been out for a while,

and I thought you’d be gone.

It’s so hot in this room, so

humid too. You must feel

bloated. Don’t you hate

that? I thought you might

roll to the river and cool off

in the breeze, or bounce to

the park and sit in the lush,

green grass in the shade of

the trees, out of sight from

children who might pick

you up and throw you, or

try and pop you. Oh little

ball, I can never tell where

you’ve gone. Just tell me

this once, did you leave

and come back? Or did

you not leave at all?