there are patterns in hallucination
there are a dozen ways to look down upon a place you once knew
I know those summer afternoons in a city,
watch as the flowered sun dresses of the elite clatter by
the shiny shoes of the well to do reflect sunlight
more painfully than metal.
I love the patterns of leaves in golden sunlight
as cars rush by, not understanding my pace.
there are things I remember, just around the corner.