Bubbles

I was blowing bubbles in the dark,
the near dark anyway,
and watching the colors spin.
I should go in, I knew,
But I sat on the dorm's dark steps and I bless
Bubbles from a little plastic wand.
It was after work, getting late already,
My night promised to get later still,
What with homework and reading
And I really should clean
And try to act my age.
But where is the fun and laughter
In late night tedium
In real responsibility.
The silence around a lamp-lit textbook
Is deadly, only.
The quiet with the bubbles, a spell.