Time in dreams is frozen. You can never get away from where you've been. — Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin.
Somewhere my youth goes on
Another dimension
Or inside me now
As I go on
And I do
Those days when I was indestructible
When my dreams and future were indistinguishable
Then
That was but maybe is
And I am still
The fountain of old age
But the search is never ending
But somewhere my youth persists
Still so sure of itself
Still fumbling, stumbling, shambling
But still my own
Me
Mine
And I’ll reclaim it again
There there behind that dream
Next to that idea
Just to the right of that emotion
Somewhere my youth goes on
I love it
