the sun, the earth, and my bathroom’s casement window,
are aligned such that this morning a tiny rainbow appears
on the tiles of my shower stall

I leave the curtain partially open
to allow the prism-effect to continue to shine there
while I luxuriate under the hot water

my large plastic bottle of soap is near its end
so I fill it with just a bit of liquid from the nozzle-head,
and shake it up to make the most of the last of it

when I pop the top, tiny bubbles emerge and lift in the steam,
brought into existence for a brief moment, the delicate film
of each orb – scented of shea and lavender – caught in light

and I see the rainbow reflected many times over, swirling around me
in the face of the glycerine – the hydrophilic and phobic hydrocarbon
caught between the soap molecules, striving to become spheres
to minimize the surface tension, expending the least energy

so delicate, so ethereal, each tiny bubble, here but for a moment
then gone

as the earth tilts ever so slightly, so too disappears
the rainbow on the wall

and I am once again
alone in the mist

Chagall 2020