
© LJR 2025
BUBBLES
Did we come from something in the mud
Or just the ooze out-gassing
Not that it really matters for
We are bubbles and we’re rising
A single globe, some pairs or clumps
In size, large, small, or in between
We slip past fronds and pond debris
Dodge a swarm of darting tadpoles
But on we go, tenaciously
Aware our goal lies just ahead
The surface breached, we gently float
Letting sunlight show our colors
And then, my friend, we face our end
For like those that came before us
As bubbles, we’re predestined to go
POP!