time changed

trailing glances left to see
another hidden side of me
random chances should not be
and a man should never have to flee. . .
worn out phrases spoken low
bring reaction rather slow
routine phases of my days
march before me in strange ways. . . 
lost emotions buried deep
parallel my fitful sleep
distant notions lost from sight
fly like birds in vagrant flight. . .
glowing moments from beyond
change into a special bond
trav'ling into gray oblique
from a world of hard critique. . .
passing fancies i would have
searching for a mental salve
staying in forgotten times
needing dollars having dimes. . .
sleeping sometimes waking most
first a visitor then a host
vague and murky futures fogged
might be dry might get bogged. . .

1971