Saturday, April 28, 2012

Long Island Poem for Sunday, April 29th 2012

A Word Out Of The Sea, excerpt
Walt Whitman

When the snows had melted, and the Fifth-month grass
     was growing,
Up this sea-shore, in some briars,
Two guests from Alabama—two together,
And their nest, and four light-green eggs spotted with brown;
And every day the he-bird, to and fro, near at hand,
And every day the she-bird, crouched on her nest, silent,
     with bright eyes;
And every day I, a curious boy, never too close, never
     disturbing them,
Cautiously peering, absorbing, translating.

"A Word Out Of The Sea" by Walt Whitman from Leaves of Grass.
Reprinted after The Walt Whitman Archive. In public domain.

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