posted in: Poems 2014 | 0

The first 9 stretch out from the wand

Each one, plum sized, quivering gently

Propelled on a gentle mid-June breeze

moving randomly across suburban scenery


I take my time with the next blow

A pair of oranges, rainbow smeared

each one holding a reflected me

One glides away, doomed from the start

the other, disappears against a cotton sleeve


Blowing as if flickering a candle flame

I produce 28 gooseberries that saunter off like bees

Some mark the bark, some glisten the leaves

and the last few assail and escape over the trees


I try out my next trick and conjure 2 apples

fused as a conjoined twin

This double-bubble hovers and shimmers

waiting for me, but it’s a booby trapped globe, exploding

causing shrieks of glee


I contemplate producing a grapefruit

When a tug on my arm, small outstretched hand

other resting on a hip, disarms me begrudgingly

I hand over the bottle with a sheepish grin

and the soapy coated, orange plastic, dipping stick.









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