““Those soapbubbles that kid Amuses himself with by blowing them from a straw Are transparently a whole philosophy. Clear, useless and fleeting like Nature, Friends to the eyes like things, They are what they are With a little round airy precision, And nobody, not even the kid who’s making them, Pretends they’re more than they appear to be. Some are hard to see in the clear air. They’re like a breeze that blows and barely touches the flowers And we only know it’s blowing Because something lightens in us And accepts everything more clearly.””
