Hocus Pocus

If motion is a paradox of stills,
explain the tendency of one and one
to become two, as lovers steeped in want,
or as the wind sweeps trees in leafy trills.
If attraction is but gravity, then plant
and sunlight would not seek each other; chills
would shiver people less in winter ills.
And as the night goes silently unsunned
enlighten all about the stars that glow
so wonderfully in the lake, below
the surface of which fly fishes as the birds
swim in the morning air – such frigid words
cannot fail to deconstruct the summer, nor
explain the magic of an opening door.

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