Friday, 27 March 2009

leaves of grass

I´m reading Speciman Days by Michael Cunningham and I´m falling in love with poems by Walt Whitman.

I celebrate myself, and sing myself,
And what I assume you shall assume,

For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.
I loafe and invite my soul,

I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass.

"And your very flesh shall be a great poem."
Walt Whitman


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