Poems

April Magician

Houdini was an Aries like me. So was Charlie Chaplin.
Traditional straightjacket magic, magic of
A hop and fluster. I did not have magic—
Fire sign with no magic.  I have no cape
With moons and shooting stars. Handcuffs
Stymie me. I cannot walk with my feet
Splayed. Yesterday, I sat on the porch
Steps, watching my son coming home
On his skateboard. He swerved into the driveway,
Dropped the board and high-fived me,
Then sat on the step just below me so that
I had to widen my legs to accommodate him.
He leaned back and I rubbed his sweaty head
And an unreal August breeze circled the house.
We waved at a stranger driving by.
I picked up the book I had been reading.
A cardinal flew past us to the feeder.
“Rub my head some more,” Luke said,
and I put the book back down.

–A poem I wrote back in the day (Shaun Perkins)

 

1 thought on “April Magician”

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