Have you ever been so hopelessly Lost in a moment Intranced by something so far gone it seems to detach from you And wander like it has its own mind. Echoing the stachato of feet so far down the stairs that the way back looks like a tunnel Of never ending shapes So distinteresting from the vividity That is the present thought That you dream that you did not have to wake to the reality of the now Like a kid looking through a window on Christmas eve all that bottled happiness lays behind the wall of the mind. I often find myself window shopping down that hall Hoping for a taste of what was Aching to catch her before she gets to far away.