James Walton #14 Abracadabra

Abracadabra

The arcane art of invisibility is a slow burner,

where tomorrow is yesterday and now is the better edge

of a truth too sharp for  that angle of alchemy.

Not brought on by a snap of fingers

or pulled aside to reveal by a reverent assistant,

but a recessive cord unwinding in the present.

All the while diminishing

As you pass Hendrix, Christ, Lawrence and Woolf,

the signposts missed in acrid whiff

of obituaries burned for winter heat.

The smouldering wilt doesn’t give a clue

that the stage lights are growing dimmer

as all the silence that has ever been

wraps itself around your pre paid envelope.