Of black leaves
In still ponds
And still darker
Recollections
Common to men;

I wince to face
Life’s indirections,
Sins, failures
Vast indiscretions…

And use words as patter
To alter perceptions:
Sleight of hand feints
Allusions, digressions

A Grand Poseur
Who directs attention
Away or toward
Secret intentions

A Magus of words
And willing suspension
Of disbelief
In filmy inventions

Who summons the wind
Controls the air
Conjures things
That aren’t there...

But cannot for all
Relieve the gloom
Of a heart breaking
On dark afternoons,

Or mourning doves
Singing plaintive tunes
Incanting
Sad strains of solitude.