Friends Only
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.
Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt,
Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see
and remark, and say, Whose?
~Walt Whitman
This journal is friends-only because I would like to get to know the people who read my journal. If you want to join my friends list, please leave a comment on this entry.
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.
Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord,
A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt,
Bearing the owner's name someway in the corners, that we may see
and remark, and say, Whose?
~Walt Whitman
This journal is friends-only because I would like to get to know the people who read my journal. If you want to join my friends list, please leave a comment on this entry.