<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=448715" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Sounding I</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I see my soul come galloping<br>making and patching my threading seams<br>embracing me in the gloaming<br>between twilight and evening<br>making new passages as the younger years<br>fall away.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I see my heart throbbing, mending<br>and renewing<br>even in a veil of past-time tears.<br>I see my youth standing by<br>in the cracked mirror<br>and curse how much of my outward identity is emprisoned<br>there<br>and the voice says counterpoint<br>'Don't drown in that mirror pool.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I hear, voices, mostly my own<br>clamor down from its retreat<br>and reassert once again<br>'Why can I not be forever me<br>and not be betrayed<br>by times passages<br>and the views of me<br>others hold<br>who lack my life's memories<br>because they can only remember<br>the morning's cereal<br>whist I can recall<br>a life-time's banquet.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yes, its time which is the barrier<br>I sometimes breach with stories<br>I tell my kids about the old days<br>how things were different<br>but they blank stare politely<br>and indulge dad's preoccupations<br>in irrelevancies, they themselves<br>can never know.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I feel my youth as if yesterday<br>explaining to them it took this long<br>to be me my youth again</div><div style="margin:10px 0">but alas my renewed youth has become invisible<br>to them and other others<br>and I can hear them mouthing 'don't embarrass us<br>trying to be young again<br>look in the mirror; '<br>and I do and lecture it on its inadequacies<br>to reflect this new older, younger me.<br>Is this foolish, a chimera? <br>Or merely my own imagined and denied reflection.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But do I sound middle-aged and crotchety? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Maybe, but that is only sound<br>and not I.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Lonnie+Hicks">Lonnie Hicks</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=448715" data-title="Sounding I de Lonnie Hicks" data-description="I see my soul come galloping making and patching my threading seams embracing me in the gloaming between twilight and evening making new passages as the younger years fall away. I see my heart throbbing, mending and renewing even in a veil of pas..."></div> </div> </div>

solid border dashed border dotted border double border groove border ridge border inset border outset border no border blue green red purple cyan gold silver black