Writing Assignment No. 1 (keywords: leaf and childhood games)

I remember :
carefully plucking the finest gumamelas
and santan leaves,
mashing and crushing until juices flow,
adding a bit of soap and water
and stirring until it foams,
dipping the makeshift loop wholly into the solution
and then breathing life -

A bubble as it floats in the air
brings a sense of comfort and peace
though so much work for something
so fleeting and fragile.

And in my heart I wonder
as I wait for the inevitable
Why do we blow bubbles when we know
they're going to burst anyway?

As gumamelas bloom and wilt
and santan leaves fall
I realize that some things never change
I still play this childhood game
and I am reminded, as a familiar scene plays :

Of bags packed in the bedroom
and tears like solution residue
stains the floor -

A mark of
another love leaving
another bubble burst.