when I was young I had magic
not abracadabra with a puff of smoke
or a coin behind the ear
but a touch of healing power
we would joke, my friends and I
a forehead kiss would cure the ache
my promise of futures brighter
would come to pass with zeal
forgotten gifts of long ago
echo back with new incarnation
manifesting as faith but more
like a comic book creation
consuming sadness and regret
subsistence of the negative
toward transfiguration sought
creating light from shadow
Monday, September 20, 2010
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