In the crowd of a fair

" I believe Mute had died a few days ago"

"What do you mean?"

" It died a few days ago but it is only now that I see. I don't write much anymore. It's gone. Used up.

I poured it all into one big yellow balloon and now it has floated away from me.

Out of sight. Beyond what I can see.


The Wind just came and tugged away my child. Lured to it the open skies. Showed it all the freedom I couldn't give.

My words were getting choked on themselves.

There were too many though my child seemed too young for such a thought.

So my words crashed and bumped into each other instead of sitting in their allotted spaces.

They thought it was time to go hunt for an identity. But they bumped into each other and knew not one from the other or themselves.

They asked which one of us is new? Unique?

Which one of us Ma, is special?

What could I say? They were all mine.

They were all special.

But my children didn't want to hear such an answer. Each child jumped and hopped. Hoped if it would leap higher it would be my favourite. But a mother's love doesn't favour.

So one by one they left my hand in this crowd fair where I stand afraid. Where I clutched them close.

But they left my hand anyway and floated to freedom of the skies away from the strangling hold of their mother's love.

My children took the stranger's candy. Left my hand to walk

In the crowds of the chameleon skies.

And there wasn't even a goodbye. "