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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=392195" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Almost 21</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A slim boy wearing summer clothes<br>Bare feet like cat's paws on the paving stones<br>Steps around last night's broken glass<br>Guitar in hand, heading for the busking site<br>Where the traffic never gets too loud<br>To play for tourist passers-by<br>For the drunkards on the benches<br>Where they pass their waking hours.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Becoming less boyish<br>Watching the summer's progress<br>Examinations done<br>Living in cloisters built centuries ago<br>For five-foot boys and men<br>All he had learned in recent years <br>Summarized in a fist of index cards.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now he learns more by watching the town<br>An accelerated documentary of change<br>That overturns the marble statutes<br>And the old ideas of restraint<br>How amazing, just a few years <br>Of cultural fire up-ends it all.<br>He too is straining for expansion and change<br>A child of the universe after all.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When the songs in the guitar case have been sung<br>He goes looking for paperbacks of Descartes and Locke<br>And calls up ethicists, modern empiricists<br>From the depths of the Bodlean<br>He grasps at their schemes for a month or two<br>And then lets them loose for all time to come.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Walking at dawn in wet grass by the river<br>Around the ethnographic museum<br>Where the punt boats rock, tethered, half-asleep<br>He fully expects to meet<br>Strange mythic creatures at every turn.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Where will I go, he asks the inner sky, <br>What could be more perfect than this? <br>There are sometimes a few<br>Perfect moments in life<br>And this is one of his.<br>Higher education lies ahead, <br>Higher visions and dreams<br>To be found, without doubt<br>To be fought for and earned<br>Within the world of work.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">This English summer, where the evening light lingers<br>Will survive in his memory all the time he is free<br>England's summer is fickle <br>Beloved and brief<br>Just as lives can be.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Frank+Bana">Frank Bana</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=392195" data-title="Almost 21 de Frank Bana" data-description="A slim boy wearing summer clothes
Bare feet like cat's paws on the paving stones
Steps around last night's broken glass
Guitar in hand, heading for the busking site
Where the traffic never gets too loud
To play for tourist passers-by
For the drunk..."></div>
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