Around the canyon we spin
like a corkscrew,
as if opening a bottle of wine
to toast the evening.
Autumn air will soon be crisp as salad,
five hundred festival balloons
afloat in the valley
like bubbles in chilled champagne,
rainbow-colored bubbles.
It isn’t October yet, but I’ll peek
over my shoulder, expectantly,
a mile or two outside of Albuquerque.
Here /not here/there/not there,
that trick memory likes to play.
A glass big enough
for the Statue of Liberty –
though isn’t it a party already,
without colossal guests?
The sherbet of the sunset,
delicious.
Poetry Atlas has other poems about Albuquerque.
Hot Air balloons over Albuquerque, New Mexico
You can take a sunset hot air balloon ride over Albuquerque with Viator:.