Bubbles mean much…to her
The waterfall spreads mist through the air, bouncing her hair into pins at a juggler’s act.
And as the Fall bubbles at the crevices,
she squints to meet the morning rays
shining light on tiny droplets of sweat on her lips.
Gets into a rush; pulls up the hanging A-line corner of her dress, tucks it away.
Gathers the strands from her face and nape to roll into a confident bun.
Perches herself on a rock, and bends down cleavage ‘an all,
grabs all the bubbles with the cups of her hands.
She thinks she’s caught one, but a new replaces the old, then another replaces yet another.
And she laughs, as she begins to play with them.
Bubbles take her to that moment in time; her best friend Chi had blown bubbles incessantly into her hair
chasing her all around the yard, troubling the heck out of her,
making her look through a bubble to find him, making her laugh.
Bubbles bring out the child in her.
She feels no need to tuck her inner child away.
Not now.
Not in the future.
