she hung to a balloon ribbon
uprooted with a satisfying crunch
her Doc Martens left in a bog
as she went up into the sky
like candle wax, in a red sundress
watched the shrinking suburban sprawl
with quiet acquiescence
pedestrians withered from perspective
and gambolling students
on the playground at recess
played without acknowledging
her upward mobility
and she was contented to be
swimming in the clouds,
buoyed along through the breeze
her vertical unhindered
by the horizontal forces lashing
and there she is on the lunar surface
in her red sundress brightening
the dark side of the moon