Quickly’s Repurpose

Beginning with a Line by Charles Wright

My life keeps sliding out from under me, intact but
like the magic carpet they call Cloud Tamer,
and I’m apprenticed to a sorcerer who can’t spare
time. I have swept the whole arena with my backside
and never stayed on the full eight seconds. Magic
takes you nowhere if it’s circling your head, mocking
your bruised pride. There was a man once, tall
as a tree and just as beautiful. So beautiful the thought
of him still makes my throat clench. Once I saw a girl–
maybe eight years old, or ten–drop to hang
from a small pear tree’s lowest limb. She was wearing
a white dress with large blue dots, and hanging there
for her few scant seconds was both naturally joyful
and strange. Like finding something long thought lost.
Your mother’s watch, or a name from the past. Sometimes
there is nothing there. Sometimes there’s too much
to handle. It begins to be about failing well.

 

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