Raindrops in my hair;

Cold stillness in the air.

The bugle notes pierce

Our hearts; beating fierce.

People; faces; words;

Distant; like southern birds.

Smiling to hide the fear;

Not meeting eyes clear.

Raindrops in my hair;

Blue balloons the wind bear.

The string slides though my hand

Rising high above the land.

Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Most of the time, me and my brother (the Technological Geekster – he’s asked me to call him that on here) get along pretty well. We’re fairly close as far as siblings go. But sometimes, he drives me downright insane. And sometimes, even he will get in a random mood, and if I happen to be in a random mood at that point, interesting things happen. Today we were tossing a half-deflated Mylar balloon around my room and talking. I kicked the balloon, and he said, “Oh no! You just killed the balloon!”