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Of Magicians and Rabbits The magicians buried their wands. The signs of their sleight, the wan men That emerged, wander their white Like rabbits, brush to brush, bush to bush, To find the magicians’ hands. They borrowed Merlin’s cap and gown And studied all his remedies, And patched together rag and bone With rhyme and ancient melody. To a dull land, withered with wheat And blind from the shining sea - To thee they sing. Amber grain, halcyon skies, The purple mountains majesty Directed mind, but feet replied, Magicians don’t make liberty. The dawn has left to night, Where the wan men show bright, In the pale moon that escaped Their elaborate song. The magicians have left And the land’s bereft Where the wan men search for home. |
Additional Notes:
*** Well, with 94 credits that have no other value than posting poems here . . . I post one in this ghost town.
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