This Time Poem by Dean Meredith

The charlatan
Plucks another dove
From his pocket
Then does it again
Surprising himself
This time
A half smile
The doves fly off
His sadness returns
He reaches in
Finds nothing
This time
He waits
Expectedly
For the doves
To return
They don't
This time
His gut twists
The sure hand
Secretly trembles
The hidden mind
Secretly trembles
This time
The doves circle
Their feathers
White against the sky
The crowd applauds
He smiles
This time