The Balloon Fair

The Balloon Fair

Hannah is coming.
I should be used to the coming and going,
But I’m not.
The hurried excitement, anticipation,
A balloon of joy fills in my chest.
We will take long walks.
She will help me in the greenhouse.
We will sit on the porch in the evening
And listen to the July flies.
We will begin winnowing out the collection of the years,
The house, the memories, the attic, the dreams, the barn.
Far too soon, I feel the emptiness begin
The balloon starts to deflate.
She is going .
The balloon hangs like a left over party favor,
Drooping on its stick.