I feel along the edges <br />some rough <br />some smooth; <br /> <br />something is alive there <br />I can hear a heartbeat. <br /> <br />It is warm in some spots, <br />in others cool; <br /> <br />I can hear muffled talking <br />but I can not understand <br />what is being said. <br /> <br />I touch it once again <br />and bring it closer to my ear <br />because I am blind <br />and need to feel <br />what I cannot see. <br /> <br />It has a texture which is un-even, <br />a certain undefinability- <br />even mystery. <br /> <br />I lay it on the table once again <br />move away <br />still trying <br />to comprehend <br />this <br />which is <br /> <br />My Life.<br /><br />Lonnie Hicks<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/picking-it-up/
