The Magician
by Chinyere Nwosu
As I lay on my pillow
I think about the greens and the willow
Dancing on the branches
Were horses from the ranches
My gaze is fixed to the top of the tree
Held bound by the moves of the famous three
The squirrel, the horse, and of course the acorn, the fruit of the oak
Not minding their trainer, although he spoke
With tuxedo so long and hat so high
Neatly balanced on pants so tight on the thigh
He whips his wand at the stage
Hoping his magic will still hold on this page
About The Poem
This poem is about our imaginations and the tricks they play on us. It points at how our minds play out memories and our hope that the events turn out as great as we have imagined.