Storm Window

Conrad Hilberry (b. 1928)

At the top of the ladder, a gust catches the glass
And he is falling. He and the whole window topple
backwards like a piece of deception slowly
coming undone. After an instant of terror,
he feels easy, as though he were a boy
falling back on his own bed. For years,
he has clamped his hands on railings, balanced
against the pitch of balconies and cliffs
and fire towers. For years, he has feared falling.
At last, he falls. Still holding the frame,
he sees the sky and trees come clear
in the wavering glass. In another second
the pane will shatter over this whole length,
but now, he lies back on air, falling.

2007: Lingering In Happiness by Mary Oliver

The Vanishing Horseman

Conrad Hilberry

Magnificent in his blue uniform,
Harry Houdini rides a fine white horse
onto the stage, surrounded by attendants

dressed in white. Two of them lift up
a huge fan, hiding Houdini
for a moment. When they lower it,

he has vanished. The horse stamps and rears—
but no blue rider. Where has he gone?
There is no trap door. He is not clinging

to the far side of the horse. Instead,
while the fan protected him, he tore off
the blue uniform, made of paper, tucked it

inside his white clothes, dismounted,
and became one of the attendants, one
of the uncounted retinue turning

the empty horse and running to the wings.