Picnic Effervescence

Between the tie-dyed garments
of dancing adults, I spy
the children
dipping their oversized bubble wands
into pans of liquid soap and glycerin,
trusting in the simple wind
to help pull luminous colors
from the wet membrane
trembling in their hands,
the bubble promise dance twirls
small feet and hands—
bubbles bigger than their heads
are pulled into the afternoon
sunlight and drift above
music, smoke trails,
sleeping babies and good dogs
tormented by the smell
of grilled brats and veggie burgers.
The band in it’s stone shelter
supplies an instrumental
jam of bubble-making music
for the children—
peace full and sending
their fragile wishes
out into the fully leafed treetops
delicate and sharp edged
trusting the grown-ups
to make bubbles possible
for awhile longer.

5-15-05