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TIME TRAVEL
When I travel in time
It is always to the past
And never to some fateful or auspicious day.
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No. I land in some snowy morning
When school has been cancelled
And the kids spend all day in pajamas
Watching cartoons
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Or on some Tuesday or Thursday morning
When a warm, slow rain has washed the streets of the town
And in an office, where ceiling fans turn slowly
And dripping umbrellas rest in a stand in the foyer
Where a man in white shirt and tie
Finds that all of his meetings have been cancelled
And he spends an hour cleaning off his desk
And looking through his window
At the scarlet taillight streaks on the glossy road.
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When I travel in time
It is always to the past
To some place where time itself feels like a robe.
Copyright 2015
One has to reach a certain level of maturity to appreciate such time travel experiences.