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Nancy Wolter Poem
Wiz Away
I entered the empty funeral hall.
Am I not at the correct memorial gathering in visitation room H?
“Excuse me, sir, but is this the memorial for Mr. Wizby?
There is not a posting besides the entrance.”
“Never fear, you will soon behold…”
What? I think, seeing nothing around me—not a flower vase or a picture.
“Never fear”, the director says once more.
Odd, I think.
A knock and a rumble of voices echo outside this room.
What’s up? when guests—who are they? prance along the waxed floor, strange masks floating about a sea of wild frocks.
“Who may you all be?”I ask, bewildered—is that a ferret wrapped like a scarf?about the pig-tailed girl with dirty feet?
A falcon perches on the threadbare arm of a midget.
“Who may you all be?”I ask, yet again.
A tall, bespeckled man cartwheels to my side.
”We are the Pennywhistle Circus, who knew of old Wizby well.
Pray, who may you be?”
“I am Ian, his grandson.”
Cartwheel-Man bird-whistles to a bearded portly man standing next to the door. He holds a foggy beaker in his gloved hand and a stethoscope dangles from his neck amid a snowy beard.
“Ah, Binky! So glad you have come!”
“Reggie, I see you have grown taller since last I saw you.”
“Ah, Binky! The marvelous elixir you gifted me was a welcome surprise.
Alas, my pet lizard partook of the vial, growing beyond measure, and thus, died.”
“Everyone, gather near, as Mr. Wizby is finally here.”
Wrapped in peacock feathers, Wiz was quite a sight.
Porcupine quills crowned his pink bald head.
The midget sidled near to pluck a feather, unraveling
old Wiz.
“Oh, dear!” chortled Cartwheel-Man.
Ferret-Scarf poked his wiggling body amid the dancing feathers bathing the room. Midget-Man’s falcon perched atop old Wiz.
What folly is this?” a voice graveled out from once-dead old Wiz
“You take my death lightly, so “poof, be gone, as I am the Magic-Man.”
Wiz leapt into a pile of frocks and masques, shouting
“I have returned, never fear, Wizby lives on for yet
another year.”
Copyright © Nancy Wolter | Year Posted 2018
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