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.