or a field of poppies...

there's not really too much that gets me down

~

i'm kind of like a hot air balloon

drifting

shading my eyes from the sun

while

trying to catch butterflies

soaking in what i see and letting my hair get messy in the breeze

~

unfortunately

though

sometimes i land abruptly

too suddenly

too rough

and

not in the beautiful tulip filled field where i was aiming

~

instead

it's in the field next to the run down farm

filled with cows and goats and fresh manure

and

the wicker basket to my air balloon drags heavily through it

bouncing

collecting shit along the way

~

finally it comes to a halt

~

the sickly looking cows wander over

for a closer inspection

wondering what all the commotion is

and

they're frightened

by my

"it's supposed to be in the field of tulips"

basket

and

they snort and kick

and

i fall into the fetal position

and

plug my ears

and

kick my feet in a toddler type of tantrum

~

i'm not technically tethered here in this manure filled field

but

the shit is heavy

acting

like bricks

forcing me to stay grounded

~

so i hope for changes

and

pray that i can make it through the rest of his teenage years

while

making promises with god

knowing

that the only way i can fly again

is when the shit weighing my basket down

dries up and falls off

*