Balloon

It's been so quiet
inside these rubber walls
while great finches flit down to peck at the tether.  
I wait, in the endless line of our exchange, for claws to break through,  
for your moon-coloured hands to dangle me
as a belated balloon with a weighted string
who'd sail across an empty sky,  
given half the chance,  
before falling
upon someone else's washing line
and spending the rest of her life.