Willow Silvera

November 11, 2005-Connectcuit
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Street Magic

A street full of faces
Not worth remembering
Children hand in hand
Leather jackets and
Old men sitting at the
Faded yellow curb
Cigarette in gnarled hands
Smoke drifting in the air

Only those who truly believe
In Magic
Will see the Magician
With dark eyes
Holding the universe within
Her hair long and sleek
Like a raven’s wings
A crimson cloak billowing
Behind her silk top hat
Wearing a vintage coat
With glazed silver buttons

Her raspberry lips always
Carry a lingering smile
When you walk up to see
Her. And ask
For a trick.
She’ll lean down almost
Touching her pointed nose
To yours
And softly ask you
In a voice that sounds like
Cold water trickling down
A stream
Do you believe in Magic?
And look deep into your soul
While you find an answer.
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