A STRANGE HOLIDAY NIGHTMARE

What is my nightmare?

I’m in an office building,

somewhere in New York City.

I hear explosions.

I look out the window.

Planes are dropping bombs.

Buildings are bursting into flames.

People are screaming around me.

I run down the stairs,

caught in a mass of people,

all intent on escaping.

To where, we don’t know.

I run down the streets.

Bombs keep falling.

I see a bridge in the distance.

Then it’s gone.

It exploded.

All that’s left are flames.

What is happening?

Are we under attack?

I close my eyes.

I open them again.

I can see my room.

Thank god it was only a nightmare.

I swear I could still smell the smoke.

A strange holiday nightmare.

TRAPPED IN WONDERLAND

Too many people on the streets.

Cars honking their horns.

People shoving each other.

When did life become so hectic?

Why is everyone in a hurry?

Where are they all going?

They become a blur to me.

One shoving mass of humanity.

Hurrying to their end.

No individuality.

No caring.

No manners.

Only a need

to get somewhere fast.

Trapped in their

Alice of Wonderland—

in a hurry to go nowhere.

GRAND CENTRAL TERMINAL

Grand Central Terminal.

There is no other like you.

Keeping the pace through

the calm and the hectic.

Providing light through your

mullioned windows.

The watcher of it all.

The keeper of schedules.

But most of all the

keeper of time for those

passing through your gates.