Fly Away

A gust of wind tugs stubbornly at the taut string. Its efforts are undermined by the resistant twine, ensuing a struggling debacle.

Sometimes, it is better to release the sphere and watch it soar to where it pleases. Witness its ascent, soaking in the resplendence of its newfound identity.

The speck disappears into the distance and with it, the familiarity of its string formerly twirled around a finger. Suffice to say, the remnant cord encircles a wrist, threading pieces of the past and present.

Striding away with a smile on her face, she knows she has done the right thing.
She has set the balloon free.

I love you too much to make you stay.

Baby, fly away ------ [ Corrinne May ]