Poetry: Everyday Magic

They say there’s no such thing as magic.

That everything can be explained

By college textbooks

And nature documentaries

But

What do you call the swell

Of my heart when the

Sun peeks over the hills

Blanketed in dew?

Is there a scientific explanation

For how wide my eyes are

After three hours in the Met?

Can you explain

What runs through my mind

When I dive headfirst

Into water so clear and cold

That it erases my mind?

Tell me that you don’t believe in magic then.