Bubbles

Bubbles, bubbles, sailing high,
Drifting, swirling in the sky,
They glisten, shine in broad daylight.


Some may fall to land by gravity’s might;
Others with wind, they lift and go
Maybe to heaven, I do not know;


Most will pop, and splash in sky.
Wonder, wild, wayward flow,
Brief hopes and dreams that dare to show.

 

Michael James Willow
Michael James Willow writes a poem for Why Vandalism, July 2022.