Father raised bright tiger lilies
and roses the color
of the sunset,
that slow, daily apocalypse.
Trumpet vine and Copa de Oro,
orange and gold
                                 as the wildfires
that ate up our dry hills
each Fall,
when the wind began to howl
                                               and rattle
our old wooden house.

Some nights, we were a family of wolves,
protecting old bones.
Other times,


who forgot the words to their spells,
who accidentally hexed themselves.
[image: Man & Wah]

2 thoughts on “Magicians

    1. Thank you so much, Tricia!

      That’s wonderful to hear. Especially since it is thematically lifted from my novel-in-process!

      On on,



Leave a Comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s