Poem By ivor or ivor.e hogg
I strain my eyes, peer through the clinging mist
My mind can conjure up strange fantasies
I know are not real, but they still persist.
Perhaps in fact somewhere they do exist.
false copies of forgotten memories
arising when and how they please.
They have a power I cannot resist..
Sometimes I comprehend the scenes I see
and other times I do not understand.
Impressions pass me by so speedily
Their rate of progress I cannot command.
I sense a strange familiarity
With things I glimpse impressionistically.