A little poem of a scene outside my window:

Bubbles in The Rain

One of my new neighbours blows bubbles in the rain.

I do not know her title, I do not know her name.

She blows them in the downpour, then goes inside again.

I raise my hand to wave at her; she raises hers in turn

Blows one more batch of bubbles, and watches as they burst.

I think of shouting out, of reaching out, to make a friend

But I am on the first floor, and there’s no time to descend

For as fast as first I spotted her, she vanishes again.

I blink and she has disappeared

Like bubbles in the rain.

Iona xx