Glimpses

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.
Perhaps in fact somewhere they do exist.
false copies of forgotten memories
arising when and how they please.
They have a power I cannot resist..

Sometimes I comprehend the scenes I see
and other times I do not understand.
Impressions pass me by so speedily
Their rate of progress I cannot command.
I sense a strange familiarity
With things I glimpse impressionistically.

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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