The Magic Brooms

One morning, all the brooms
decided to be magic again.

Across the world, one by one,
straw by straw, all
awoke to their calling.

In closets, they twitched,
In hardware stores, they nestled

As one, the brooms arose,
guided by mysterious radar
to find their rider.

Dust, freed, arose as well,
and alas,
the brooms returned to work,
sweeping clean the skies.

Ashes to ashes,
Dust to dust,
Magic does as magic must.


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