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.

1 Comments:

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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