Sunset Over Macadam

The sixth time he faded was harder
because I had to use my other hand
to count. I kept my cool for once
and didn’t mention how I levitated
over cracked linoleum when I was four.

There’s barely room for magic these days
with wires and satellites claiming
the landscape, but still I love to float
even if just for a few minutes above
dandelion fields. That’s a small bravery.

We lingered over a common hill
but found the lost years so brittle,
our hands were left holding dust.
Sundance and the Kid couldn’t have
picked a better fadeout.

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