Suggestion from Bashabi
By Caroline Fraser
I sometimes get giddy when I look down
onto the roofs of houses and chimney pots so far below.
Most of the time I am a puppet,
my strings are pulled by a child.
Up here, I am so much more.
I dance and glide with the wind as it ruffles and whips in and about my glowing colours,
flirting with me as we slip and slide through the air,
as if following some unheard rhythm.
People on the earth’s surface are missing so much,
They merely stand and point at me-awestruck.
I laugh at them from my cloudy Heaven and relish my freedom
Before I am tucked away in a box, to sleep peacefully
Until I am needed again.