Mildred Kinbar
July 1997
IDENTITY
As years of life wane,
Quiet moments grope in vain
For the threads which tie
To define the elusive "I".
Scenes, thoughts--Dervishly they whirl.
Elusive at first, the pictures unfurl
Early hopes, aspirations, and dreams,
In kaleidioscopic color, breathtaking themes.
Years slip by, colors change;
Hues are blurry, as in the range.
Dreams lie dormant, awaiting the morn
For the self to emerge, to be reborn.
