Poetry June 2009

Riddle

Puffed like an adder.
Deflated like a balloon.
Tiny or huge, you are
never the right size.

A little man or woman,
you strut, you speak,
you want. You
have delusions.

O little one,
look at yourself,
posturing and ridiculous.
Go now, please go.

But no, without you,
what would I be?
That is the question
I cannot answer

until I am changed into
particle or star, and you,
you drift away as if you
had never been there at all.

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