Daily Whitman


Song of the Open Road

  You air that serves me with breath to speak!
  You objects that call from diffusion my meanings and give them shape!
  You light that wraps me and all things in delicate equable showers!
  You paths worn in the irregular hollows by the roadsides!
  I believe you are latent with unseen existences, you are so dear to me.

  You flagg'd walks of the cities! you strong curbs at the edges!
  You ferries! you planks and posts of wharves! you timber-lined
      side! you distant ships!
  You rows of houses! you window-pierc'd facades! you roofs!
  You porches and entrances! you copings and iron guards!
  You windows whose transparent shells might expose so much!
  You doors and ascending steps! you arches!
  You gray stones of interminable pavements! you trodden crossings!
  From all that has touch'd you I believe you have imparted to
      yourselves, and now would impart the same secretly to me,
  From the living and the dead you have peopled your impassive surfaces,
      and the spirits thereof would be evident and amicable with me.

Posted on 31/08/2014, in literature, poetry and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 1 Comment.

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