Who will make Your long bed, Smooth your grass quilt,…
. . .read these leaves in the open air every season, every year of your life. –Walt Whitman
Open to air and sky, one feels none other
than small, a particle, a part, a leaf, a blade of
a great whole. Feel the rustle, stir, and hum as all
moves together,give and get cycles of earth, air, sun, and water.
The bob of flower heads as bees lift away,
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