Sunday, August 2, 2009
Cicada in Green-Wood
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"I celebrate myself, and sing myself,/And what I assume you shall assume,/For every atom belonging to me as good belongs to you.//I loafe and invite my soul,/I lean and loafe at my ease observing a spear of summer grass."
1 comment:
I find the shells weirdly lovely, like some alien probe droid. (And there have been worse things on our dinner table.)
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