Another World Poem by James Hart

There is a world
Another world
The world of memory
Of impressions
And smells
And sounds
And feelings
Of yesterday

A Wordsworth moment
Wakes it up
“When oft upon my couch
I lie in vacant
Or in pensive mood
They fl ash upon the inner eye
Which is the bliss
Of solitude”

My solitude
Is something else
Transported also
In my mind
To rural scenes
Of tree-lined paths
Through forests dark
Towards the sunlight

The passing impression
Elusive and transitory
Like that moment
When sleep overtakes
My conscious state
Will I pass
From sleep to death
And not know it?