Magic – A poem

woman blowing sprinkle in her hand
It comes and goes.
rarely stays
For a moment, maybe an hour and passes.
He is always recognized backwards,
not on time
Magic visits like a fairy
And poof, and she is not.
Just the stardust
One more second left in space.
yes, the magic
totally real,
Because what do we have left?
What is left?
except them
 The magic moments are lost
of our lives?
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