The Drifting of Time

By Bruce Levine

The day drifted by
Or flew by
Hard to decipher
Work obliterates thought
In a stream of consciousness
Unconsciousness
Pursuing goals
As an end unto itself
Shapeless
Racing from one entity to another
Without connections other than themselves
Each one tied to the central theme
Yet independent
And drifting
Their own haphazard ideas
Played against the venues afforded each one
And seeking the end of their journey
In a new reality
Fulfilled by the drifting of time

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“(I write) to share some of my inner thoughts.” – the writer