Here, in this place,
Dream pasts and realities collide with the grey present
And stare in wonder at the possibility of seismic future.
Walls black with yesterday's visions
Rooms rich with special, personal scents.
In an endless confusion,
Time through time,
Past through present
To past again.
In one way I have found a center.
In all ways I have found a riddle.
Why I am and what this place is, I don't really know.
And I'm still waiting.
G.S., 6/ /80
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