This sort of thing has only happened to me once or twice.

I stood outside the two doors and heard
The wind in the tarnished bronze, dead leaves
That had failed in their final duty last fall
Suddenly I could feel a chair that does not exist
Beneath me and hear the same wind at a different time
Rustling different leaves, these new and green
And almost taste the dinner I had just made
Along with the drink in my hand, crisp and cool
The space mine in a way I could not understand
In a way few other places have been mine

written 3-23-2010

I will move in to this space in a few weeks. Between now and then I will be traveling and then moving. If I say that posting will be light, suddenly ten posts will be fighting for priority in my head, so instead let me ask for your patience with me in the next month.