Enter Home Planet News Poetry of Issue #6                         Page 21
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Locked in a dream, I do not heed
the church bells’ call to leave this house
of dead relatives and departed lovers
where doors are marked Past, Present, Future,
all of them bolted shut. On the walls,
clocks and calendars run amok,
constantly switching places.
Unable to tell the time or reach the light,
I burrow deeper in my bed
where friendlier spirits congregate.

  Rosalie Calabrese