Microscopic bubbles,
A fog upon the glass.
Growing fat and heavy
As they begin to mass.

Bubbles growing, merging,
Refract the room to me.
Many different sizes,
A psychedelic spree.

The pointillistic marks,
Draw faces that I know,
Or chimeric creatures
From fables long ago.

They build their ad hoc drafts,
An insubstantial art,
That moments later change
As each one flows apart.

But when they get too big,
And gravity takes hold,
And bubbles start to sink,
Their liquid paths unfold,

Traceries of water,
A simple filigree,
Meander down the glass
Like rivers to the sea.