Sunday, July 29, 2012

Magician


I had a friend some time ago
And he knew magic tricks
He’d wear a cloak
Of deepest black
And twirl his magic stick


‘Til doves shot out the end of it
And rabbits in his hat
I loved his deck
Of playing cards
Red hearts and spades of black


Until the day he smiled at me
And cocked his tousled head
And told me words
No one had heard
And secrets never said


“Look very close,” he whispered then
“Watch how I move my hands.”
The magic tricks
I loved so much
Were only that— a sham!


He showed me secret doors and traps
And hidden springs and wires
And playing cards
And colored scarves
And powders that made fire


He taught me too to do the tricks
And how to stage a show
He was so pleased
And I just smiled
Like I was glad to know


I wish he hadn’t said it, though
I wish I had it back
That last illusion
Genie’s ghost
That swirling cape of black

1 comment:

  1. I always thought I wanted to know how the tricks worked...then, I realized all the magic had left. That's the moment I finally accepted I was "grown up."

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