The magician sits quietly on a stool
but his presence booms and echoes throughout the theatre.
His toes perched on a rung,
like a pitch black vulture in a bowtie and top hat.
He leaps off the three-legged stool,
concurrently tipping his hat.
He leans down and taps his cane to the floor
and dense rose bushes pullulate
to his right and his left.
Fulsome applause thunders from hands
“The first act is done!” the magician exclaimed. “Let us proceed.”
And so day approached night
Until the wizard prepared for the finale with climactic tricks
all better than the last.
Two minutes before ten
He hangs his hat on a hook from the ceiling.
Strikes the stage rhythmically
One-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three.
He disappears through the floor, nowhere to be seen.
And from out of the hat flies
a midnight-blue raven.