The Sorcerer Retrieves an Unselected Moment in Time A sonnet

Michael Fantina

The sorcerer rang out his ancient spell
That would recall an unselected hour.
So with a little-used and potent power
He called on minions from the deeps of hell,
His acolyte to chant, and ring the bell
As to make sweet, once more, what death made sour,
To call back time, and make a moment flower;
So that the laws of Time he might dispel.

He saw two lovers in a silver light;
His fingers twirled her flaxen hair, her lips
Formed his name in anger at some slight.
She brushed his hands away from her bare hips,
Her long-nailed fingers clutched like steel to trace
Red canyons in his laughing, evil face.

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