Balloonist's Log, Final Entry Poem by Hans Ostrom

Balloonist's Log, Final Entry

Rating: 5.0

The field of our day lay ordinarily
before us. Gravity and practice

tethered our thoughts
to checklists. Helium

swelled fabric beyond wrinkled
rainbow to painted light-bulb. Up-

and foreheads; then hats and coiffures,
quickly pigment on the landscape. Cheers

littered the wind. We thought
we knew the limits. But late

in the day the continent of air between
field and cloud shrank to an urgent isthmus.

The causes were final and cited
accurately. In the meantime,

we bartered in good faith with Earth,
starting with sandbags, moving through provisions,

ending with camera, compass, and hope.
Rapid descent reduced the gondola and us to ballast.

By the time the trees and rocks were close enough
to name, choice had changed to fate

at a predictable rate.

Tom J. Mariani 02 November 2007

In you poem, 'A Photograph of the Day-Shift... you did it with four words: 'Fall with them now' This time you have done it with one: 'Up-' You have taken me both directions. I just want to let you know it's hard to read and hold your breath at the same time.

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Yen Cress 19 October 2007

You have expertly captured the joyful anticipation of the takeoff, the elation of the ride, the concern of the descent, and the dread of the conclusion. Superb poetry! Yen

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Goldy Locks 15 October 2007

Exciting! You built the suspense well. keep on SusxGLx

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