Magic Outside of the Drugstore

There was a man standing underneath a tree.
I don’t know what kind of tree it was. It was
planted in the sidewalk and he was standing there
underneath it, staring at it.

He had a white beard and long white hair that
curled around the backs of his
overgrown ears.

He also had a suitcase
and eyes that seemed to shine like
stones out
from all that water
of hair.

He kept standing there, staring,
so that you knew he was making something happen.

It would just take a while:

Eventually, he would move
closer to that tree
and the tree would move closer to him,
and they would float together
after a number of years and
form one thing, and you’d just see the tree
standing there, or maybe the
white ends of his hair on the
bark, but no one would know
it was a man in there,
the last ends of a man.