the park by the lake has been touched by Merlin

or so it seems

green and red lamps

the city of lights across the water,

like twinkling stars, pulsars, red giants, and a whole galaxy of twilight ages

the fog between the trees is a mystery

in the cold darkness, in the frosty forest

where people spend their evening, like tomorrow’s bill won’t come due

I walk and talk with my friend

who is recovering from a sickness

and getting outside for the first time, since he felt well.

“This job at Google might come through,” he said. “Look at us. We were so young.”

He shows me a picture from five years ago. “What do you want, next?” He asked.

“You’re gonna laugh,” I said.

“No, I won’t.”

“I want my imagination to become real.

I want to be a magician.

I want to have power that isn’t tedious or political–

a force of nature that comes out of me.”

“You spend too much time thinking,” he said.

“Maybe—but what if we could exert our will on the world, and the world would respond,

rather than just hoping for the best, and taking the best thing that comes along.”

“You’re living in a dream world, man.”

“Maybe,” I said.

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