Smoke and Magic
I remember the children’s party.
There was a magician.
I had never seen a magician before.
I’d heard they could pull a rabbit from a hat.
Or saw a woman in half
and put her back
together again
unharmed.
This magician had a hat.
But it stayed empty.
He did tricks with cards
like my uncle Percy,
but not as good.
Then he waved a stick called a wand
and a puff of blue smoke came out,
like magic.
And hidden in the smoke were flowers,
real flowers
showing through a gap in the smoke.
Since then
I have discovered
that there is usually a gap in the smoke
where the light shines through,
like magic.
Usually.


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