How does it happen?
The shift through time and space
when the street hawkers and lazy cuckoos
of ages gone by
can slip into the pockets of present perception
and make their smell known.
The light flicker of a dusty road impinges
on the waking moments of my older self
when the breath of painfully lost worlds
slides quietly into my lungs.
The universe sleeps at odds with itself tonight
and I dream of somewhere else.