Three girls blowing bubbles by the sea
hundreds of bubbles playing in the breeze
fragile, crystal globes
innocent, playful, ephemeral
floating by the sea.
Three girls playing
running amidst the bubbles
so tenderly blown
so wistfully made...
Bubbles rush toward the breaking waves,
not frightened, not worried
their beauty is a lifetime moment
floating, playing, living in the wind...
One falls near me
it skidded at first
teasing the glassy sand,
mirroring itself on the beach;
but the beach is cold and cruel
like the sea that gave it life
furious, majestic, unforgiving
it grasped the bubble
and held it fast.
Crystal dome that quivers
full of color and life.
Crystal dome once free
still rebels against fate,
it quivers once more and pops
leaving the aura of its existence
imprinted on the cold,
harsh sand of Cannon Beach.
--Malcolm Boswell
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