Listen to poem:
Still That Boy
from: "Anniversary", by Richard Lattimore:
"A two o'clock of sun and shutters. Oh, recall
the chair's angle -- a stripe of shadow on the wall --
the hour we gathered in our hands, and then let fall."
My own lost childhood,
those hard days that, now,
no one would believe, I still review.
Things not clearly understood
emerge from the haze of time.
Hours of somnolence resolve
into gradually more vivid recollections,
dream-like in their drama.
For me, no catharsis.
Time does not heal all wounds,
will not change that history.
The past lives on.
I may no longer be that child,
but I am, still, that boy.
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