leaving poetry class with two friends
we banter and chitchat an awful
joke mixes with a zinger’s bullseye
shrugged with a shoulder bump
giddy I make a face and get
the rolled-eye giggles
like we’re in the 5th grade
someone says Lunch next Wednesday
we do thumbs and I turn to go
suddenly a buoyancy
as my feet challenge gravity
I can hardly feel the ground
as I walk away
it’s happiness acting
like a soap bubble
a little round rainbow
floating in the sun
above the sharp
edges of the world
enjoying its short
bouncy life
for as long as it can
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