by Tamra Lucid
I’m closing down everything.
It’s the nightly ritual.
Making sure the cats are good.
Walking up to each one.
I notice they’re looking outside.
So I look where the cats are looking
even though they often fake me out
or see things I can’t.
A red and blue mylar balloon
in the shape of a heart
with a ribbon hanging off it
glides over the curving white
stucco wall around the pool.
On the wall a strand of rainbow colored
crescent moon shaped solar lights glows
reflected by the pool
it decorates the balloon with a spectrum.
The tip of the ribbon ripples the water.
It floated a mile from the Pride Party
a few thousand feet below.
Like a ghost it glides over a corner
of the pool right towards me.
I get goose bumps at the uncanny
sensation of another being.
It bounces on the ground once
then floats above the tall cactus
to disappear over the wall again
a message of love silently moving
house to house after midnight
in the hills of West Hollywood.