Poem: Sleight of Hand

Sleight of Hand

The hardest work is the tearing down.
Just enough.
Not so much to make it all collapse.
One brick out of the wall,
check it.
Then another.
rebuilding as you go,
creating something new
in the midst of demolition,
a strange slight of hand,
magic perhaps,
at least to those watching.
Not to the bricklayer.

About this poem

Change is hard. Change without blowing everything up or drawing too much attention to yourself is harder.


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