I strain my eyes, peer through the clinging mist
My mind can conjure up strange fantasies
surrealistic unrealities
I know are not real, but they still persist.
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Good poems like yours causes me to squint at some of the memories that pop up into my head. Sometimes it's like a pinball. Sometimes there is that 'strange familiarity/With things I glimpase impressionistically.' An example is my poem 'Spent My Youth in an Alley.' Thanks for the reminder to keep glimpsing. Tom
Hi Ivor! Your mind conjures up the best writes though! *10 *! ! Thad