Poems: “Tattooed” and “Milage”

They’re short and wee, so here’s a two-for-one!


Like Scoresby from my childhood,
I am a balloon.
You fill me with air and fire.
You say “breathe, breathe, breathe.”
Do not tell me how to fly.
I know it better than you.
When we are high, so very high,
you cut the sandbags.
What were you thinking?
You meant to leave,
but instead you fall.
Gravity takes you.
You plummet to the earth.
But I keep sailing.
Up and up and up.
Without the dead weight,
I may finally reach the clouds.
– Saratoga Schaefer, Written August 2018


And so I stand, alone in my room.
I watch the breeze from the fan
the curtains.
I laugh.
Ballerinas twirling in their skirts.
My room smells of something raw.
Can’t figure it out.

Meanwhile, my gaze keeps wandering over to the snow globe on my bookshelf.
It is from Las Vegas.
It is tacky and plastic.
I feel like it holds a secret for me.
But can’t figure it out.

So instead I go down to the kitchen and chew on an ice cube.


– Saratoga Schaefer, Written in 2009

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