For Magic

When you left
it was like air leaving a pressurized cabin that's been punctured
or leaving a lungs of a gut that's been pummeled

When you left
it was also like you'd gone out for a smoke;
I'm childishly waiting
for you to come back

No matter how wide I stretched
I couldn't ever match the breadth
of your narrowest welcome.
Your laughter was a hearty soup
a salty and soulful wooping
And we are all Oliver Twists
hungry
begging for more.

Just before the smoke appears
and the crowd's collective breath
draws in with awe
when the hand is waving into existence
or into the nether  whatever bit of trickery
there was, the true spell of the magician is cast 
over the eyes of the audience, captive
In the same way, we were all watching
you, Magic, spellbound as you waved
I only wish I knew you were waving
goodbye.

When would stretch that puckish grin
that shook grimy sorrow
like sand from a flapping beachtowel
I could almost hear a whisper,
"I've got it figured out,"
and you must've, so do all who leave us too soon.

by: Raymond Alistair