An Ode To Bubblewrap. Poem by Miki Byrne

I lift you from your box.
Unfolding you from the object you are wrapping.
Discard the item you were protecting.
On its journey to me-by van or train.
I hold you. Love your lightness.
Feel the plump blisters that cover your skin.
Wonder at the way you are laminated.
Perfectly constructed with pockets of air
symmetrically captured. Soft and resilient.
My son is also entranced by you.
He grips you in his strong fists.
In his glee he snatches you from me.
Squashes you in upon your self
like a discarded newspaper, then wrings you out.
As if you were a wet cloth or the neck of a fat chicken.
You explode in a fusillade of hiccupping pops,
like a plump lady's giggle and his chuckles
play counter-point to yours.
My approach is slow. Sensuous.
I place one bubble gently between my fingers
and squeeze very slowly. Till the air is forced out of you
in a tiny percussive snap. It is oddly satisfying
and I do it again and again.Until you are depleted
and fall soft as an old duster.
I fold you into your funereal bin and then turn
to the object that you brought me.