Monthly Archives: July 2018

1176

humid
sticky
on
its
way
back

the
planets
are
out
of
orbit

its
been
one
of
those
up
and
down
days
for
me

don’t
know
whether
I’m
coming
or
going
or
is
it
going
and
coming

what
a
way
to
close
out
the
month
of
July

Poem: Walt Whitman, Miracles

“As for me, I know nothing else but miracles,
Whether I walk the streets of Manhattan,
Or dart my sight over the roofs of houses toward the sky,
Or wade with naked feet along the beach just in the edge of the water,
Or stand under the trees in the woods,
Or talk by day with any one I love,
Or sleep in bed at night with any one I love,
Or watch honey bees busy around the hive of a summer forenoon…
Or the wonderfulness of the sundown,
Or of stars shining so quiet and bright,
Or the exquisite delicate thin curve of the new moon in spring…
What stranger miracles are there?”
– Walt Whitman