I like this poem, lots: #3

Bubble

I made my lips grow
close and round,
and blew
into a plastic wand.
Then I saw it, clear and thin –
my breath
wrapped in a
quivering skin
of soap that held
the blue of sky,
the sudden flash
of fireflies.
It made a trembling
shadow there,
slid whispering
through empty air,
to dip and soar
while full of glow,
I was surprised,
I didn’t know
my own breath
could be a thing
so marble-round,
and glistening.
~Deborah Chandra

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