The Balloon’s Fire

During the summertime festival
my family and I
go out to the park
with the heat in our eyes.
I sit in the grass with my mom
my dad distant, bored
there are noises in the distance
my sister wanders off toward.
The sweat fits our brows
The sandwiches are warm
The people all around
with families of their own.
We’re awaiting patiently
for the show to begin
for the action to happen
and the evening to settle in.
And after some patience,
some playful settled fun
we raise our eyes up
to see the show begin its run.
And at that moment,
we sit together, content
the sky opens up
and the hot air balloons ascend.
100 to be exact
of every known color
some green, red, white or black
some patterned or smaller.
If we focused real tight
we could see the little fire
right under the balloons
something to admire.
During the summertime hours
as our family comes together
we look towards the sky
at the balloons and their fire.