Conjuring

Like a trick of the light,
Some well-planned sight of hand;

From one angle
And then the other.

That love has such powers,
But with time she works her finest.

In her thrall, moments made vast and golden
In that glorious warp and stretch.

And the reverse,
Tackling that imposing reel.

That slow, glowing vertigo.
A rolling stretch of years
Made warm and one in her arms.

more by THOMAS W. EVANS