Gazing from his window

at the neighbour's two children

filling the garden with bubbles

he is looking idly, listening

to their chatter and laughter

both loving what they are doing , both

active

while he is idle

off work

on the sick

inactive

passing time

the boy is busy with his bubbles

they fill the garden with proud, glistening gold

achievement

the girl blows few, and

watches them

intently

Sometimes she stops and watches his.

She stops

Completely

His life is on hold

he is in limbo, this busy man,

chained by chance to this room

this desk, this paralysis, this deep deep

impotent frustration

The neighbour's dog bounds through

careless, one thought only hunger

the bubble tubs fly

the children do not cry

though the boy follows the dog

complaining

The girl studies the spreading liquid

from many angles.

She plays patterns with the soap

which soon soaks away

as the last bubble drifts past the man's window

and bursts

The girl sits and looks at the sky, the clouds,

the birds, she studies a

grasshopper, while

the boy can be heard crying now

The man looks at her and thinks

O God can I be like that?

He says it out loud

“Oh God can I be like that?”

All I've done, the meetings, the papers, the

money

the places, the people, the

bubbles,

the bubbles I have blown.

Can I let them go?
Can I just trace the patterns?
Can I be like her?

Can I just be?

just be

be