“...that we may see & remark,

and say ‘Whose?’... ”


Natural minutiae,

random grace,

the flash and fascination held in

an order


as elementally


as in

the leaves


the grass,

the flecking of old paint or

the scatter of our daily



“A child said ‘What is the grass?’

      fetching it to me with full hands;

How could I answer...?

I guess it must be the flag

      of my disposition, 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’?...”

Song of Myself

Walt Whitman     

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