A Place in Time
We were a generation
Whose time had come,
We had found our place in time.
We believed that we were special,
As had others down the line.
We were awakened to knowledge
That led us to perceive
History as a series of crimes.
We believed that we had found
A way to heal
A lost and troubled world.
We smoked herbs
And took strange potions,
To open up our minds,
To explore uncharted regions of consciousness
In the hope to find,
That elusive final knowledge
That could help the lost and blind.
In the end, we never could say
Exactly what we found,
In reflection, we were dealt a hand
That had been dealt before,
Mystery, magic, and music;
A thorough deception for many,
For others a path to Your door.
Treasure
He had a treasure box
He kept in his room,
But few
Could say what was inside.
In it were things
Of value to him,
He collected
During his life.
One day a thief
Took it away,
To find little
Of value inside.
Mere reminders
Of treasure he kept
In his heart,
That no thief ever could find.
(First published in Poppy Road Review)
Bruce Mundhenke is a mostly unknown poet who lives in Illinois with his wife and their dog and cat. He enjoys the beauty of nature, reading, and writing poetry.
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