Thursday, November 09, 2006

Song of Myself; 6

A child said What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands
How could I answer the child? I do not know what it is any more than he.

I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.


Blogger Christa said...

We discussed that poem in my American Lit class on the best academic day ever! [I believe I told you about it: Thoreau, Whitman, John Donne, aaaaaand Orson Scott Card!] And it really is quite lovely.

1:14 AM  

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