Red Balloons

When I look up
I see a blinding light
That becomes your blonde hair.

My heart pounds
A three beat measure: "Gil-li-an"
Harder than a coronary.

It is fear -
Raw, rookie-type terror.
That I will get shot down here.

I hear a sound:
Is that the "pop" of a pistol
Or red balloons bursting?

< big>                             Gretchen M. Cupp
< big>                             August, 1999