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Bruce Levine Aug 2018
I had a daydream
That I was transported back
To Old New York.
But the time was confused,
The eras overlapping.
Was I a New York Knickerbocker
Or a Gilded Age socialite?
Were my friends the Theodore Roosevelts
Or Mrs. Astor, the Vanderbilts,
Carnegies, Howells or Upton Sinclair?
With Gilded Age manners
And pride in couture.
Was I living on Washington Square
Or in a Fifth Avenue mansion?
The confusion was scary
And my timeline divided.
And yet there was something
That comforted me, held me
Like a blanket.
Society changes
But dreams are everlasting.
And Old New York remains a mem’ry;
Painting a picture,
Holding a candle, a gaslamp, a light
To brighten the moments
With happier eras,
And flights of imagination
Of times out of sight.
As Old New York remembers
The passage of time
That rekindles our passion
For elegance and splendor;
That brings on the daydreams
That remain Old New York.
Bruce Levine Aug 2018
Going backward to go forward
Finding my true identity
The hidden core
That represents my reality
Overgrown with twists and turns
Carrying me in wrong directions
Swimming upstream
Pummeled by the surf
Battered by rapids
Working on goals
That seemed long forgotten
But only frozen by cryogenics
Waiting in the wings
Hoping to be rediscovered
Looking in the mirror
To another dimension
Past the vortex
That remains transitory
Fleeting moments pointing the way
To look backward
And go forward
Bruce Levine Aug 2018
early evening sunsets
pink and orange clouds
holding hands with moonlight
Bruce Levine Aug 2018
Where does time go
And yet remaining
Every Saturday
Another week

Flying by
Yet standing still
Looking forward
To another dawn

In the distance
All the longing
Soon resolved
By a pocket full of weeks
Bruce Levine Aug 2018
hidden dreams of glory
soaring over trees
flocks of birds on an august morn
Bruce Levine Aug 2018
The butterflies are back
To carry off my soul
Leaving only the shell
To walk the earth
Bruce Levine Aug 2018
The pathways of time
Blending hours
In a mixture of
Light and dark
Casting shadows
Into a homogenous
Stew

And yet time moves on
Like a river without end
Forging a course
Of its own making
Burning in limestone
Hard as granite
An eternity forsaking
All boundaries

Black holes notwithstanding
The empty void
******* time into a vacuum
Frozen in the universe
And still time finds a way
Penetrating reality
Bending light for its own purpose
Into the unknown

Never showing itself
Never enumerating
Its variations
On a theme of its
Own making
Hidden within the
Pathways of time
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