[with apologies to e. e. cummings]
At the magical hour when is becomes if, a poem is written, happiness is glimpsed, two young people make love with great passion, two old people make love with great passion…. At the magical hour when is becomes if, a beer is drunk, two lovers fight, a cigarette is inhaled, a tree loses its last leaf, a tree sprouts its first leaf, a youth’s heart soars with elation, with confusion, with the no-nothingness of mortality…. At the magical hour when is becomes if, a girl finds her soul, then loses it, then finds it again…. At the magical hour when is becomes if, a friendship is renewed, a song is sung, an opera is written, a future is thought, a fire is built, someone is forgiven, someone forgives himself…. At the magical hour when is becomes if, she’d already said goodbye, he’d already closed the deal, she’d already started thinking about tomorrow, she ran on, he followed, she stumbled, he fell…. At the magical hour when is becomes if, she read a good book, she wrote a good book, she drank him in in one gulp, she longed for yesterday, she longed for today…. At the magical hour when is becomes if, she thought of a young poet with a scarred face and a beautiful soul, who loved the Beatles, who wrote of nuns and priests, who wrote of being unloved, unchaste, who wrote of hating his face…. At the magical hour when is becomes if, she had nothing to hang onto but air…. At the magical hour when is becomes if, chimes rang, crickets sang, the doors closed, then opened again…. At the magical hour when is becomes if, he hoped for something, she prayed for something (he sang, she yelled)…. At the magical hour when is becomes if, is became if.
