Etched in my mind
my memory,
my vision of desire. . .
a hoop atop a tiny wand
billows bubbles into being. . .
irridescent rainbow swirls
play upon
their wobbly floating
shimmying convexity,
subtle, see-through spheres,
delighting children, dogs,
and other slyly peeking onlookers
delighted by
the fleeting, brilliant baubles,
even as they pass away,
at a clap, a finger poke,
the prick of a pin,
or a sudden breath of wind,
or maybe just expire,
exploding gently into nothingness
plus perhaps a teeny drop or two
jumping up before they plummet
no longer sudsy,
but to my eye
and sometimes touch,
as it moves down,
small but quite indubitable
a little spritz of wet.
this really captures the delicateness of blowing bubbles x x x
Thank you, Amanda! I’m glad to hear that it came across that way for you. :~)