Mountain stream,
barely flowing, a trickle really
cascades down the rock face
largely evaporating before tumbling
to the slight puddle below
the wannabe torrent meanders slowly downhill  
grabbing the occasional leaf
and transporting it to the valley –
foam bubble travelling the length
finds itself stuck on a small waterlogged
bramble branch
being pulled and distorted,
its rainbows playfully dance
casting light onto shadowy bank caves
looking at how much journey has passed
excited about what it to come –
dislodged pebble bounds along the creek bed
sending  old crawdad claws
and remnants of fish **** particulates
swirling and careening though the rippling brook
as the tiny boulder strikes the bramble,
the pebble finds a new home
while the bubble continues its long overdue journey –
a wind in the tree tops sends
helicopters and pine needles soaring
spinning and falling without care or forethought
the tiniest sharpened end of a pine needle
drops tip first
into the bubble
as it travels peacefully down…
a sudden ‘pop’ and the forest falls quiet
seems the wise ole owl will collect again….
he is the only one always betting on bubble failure –