C. G. Thompson

for Ethan

The cloud dreamed of being a magician, but already was,
gliding on invisible currents across a performance
of sky. Faces turned toward it, self-selected audience,
curious what filigreed cumulus had up its sleeve.
A magic wand was implied, as was sleight of hand,
dexterity spread through fluffs and folds – voila!
Illusionist, its changes proved too subtle to follow,
until they became a fait accompli, water vapor quicker
than the mind, transforming from battleship to rabbit
to seahorse, wind acting as a nimble assistant.
Cloud then disappeared, creating its own smoke,
no mirrors required, the show over before anyone knew,
entertainer skipping a curtain call, time fleeting.

C. G. THOMPSON is a winner of the North Carolina State University Poetry Contest and a three-time finalist for the James Applewhite Poetry Prize. In 2017, two of her poems appeared in downtown Winston-Salem, NC, as part of Poetry in Plain Sight. She also was a runner-up for the 2017 Barry Hannah Prize in Fiction. Her poems and short stories have appeared or are upcoming in North Carolina Literary Review, Yalobusha Review, Prime Number Magazine, Fictive Dream, Redheaded Stepchild, and Boston Literary Magazine, among others.