Here's a fat thing, a bubble. Air bobs it. It flirts with light, sucks blue from the sky. It wants to wander, but where? There's no wind to show a way. Without a goal to vex it, it stays a toy, untroubled. A dog comes nosing, smelling soap, then yelps and shies. The bubble spits a rainbow as it dies.
(photos by RolandasJ, carterse)