Time Travelling
On such days
what holds my senses
to the world loosens
and all becomes a background
blur, a kind of peripheral haze
as seen through a rain glazed
window to that place ‘out there’.
My mind drifts and soon
I am here where time
has stood still and a hot
summer sun prints the cool shade
of almond trees on ground
where I lay during those long, lazy
afternoons on school holidays
seventy years ago,
dreaming of a future,
the adventures I would have
in a world to come, the one
I live in now.
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