Simple Magic  Simple Magic, this moment, I can hear the marsh weep for its lost Egrets; that haunting quietude, a cascade of guilt for not     Preserving it There Across the still surface of the water, shadows pick up distorted lives across its mirrored image, only the wind dips an occasional finger     to trace self-portraits, then Erase Simple Magic, this moment, the world begins where the Cattails Dance and the Butterflies swoon The footfalls of Man still echo here . . . the grass blades bend to wave instead of call I turn, only to leave behind remourseful tears the broken Earth parts to drink,     an intruder still, even from my distance         of           Breathless             Admiration

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