Soap Bubble Prophecies — Anna Pittenger

A thousand spherical prisons,
Each one containing
Within its transparent walls,
The rainbow-tinted scene
Of a potential future,
Like crystal balls,
Their ephemeral revelations
Destroyed by a touch,
Vanishing,
The mysterious containers
Transformed
Into gummy residue.
All save the few
Lucky ones
That float
And wobble
Steadily higher
Until they disappear
From sight
Against the brilliant blue
Sky,
Fragile vessels
Of an unpredictable future.