Monday, January 11, 2010

Go Native. Wedgwood and Whitman.

Poetry and pictures.  Last week I (Rebecca) was organizing my picture files and I found a few shots I liked and never used on the blog in 2009.  So, I thought "Why don't I try to find a poem for each picture?" Not as easy as it seems.  Some of the poems have obvious connections and others are a bit of a stretch. I hope you enjoy the poems and, please, check out the poet links.

Special thanks to the Poetry Foundation website at 

Letters to Walt Whitman
by Ronald Johnson

I hear you are whispering there O stars of heaven,
O suns—O grass of graves. . .
If you do not say anything
how can I say anything?

Let us tunnel  
the air
(as a mole’s green galleries)
toward the ultimate  
—the square of gold, & green, & of tassle  
that rustles back at us—

let us burrow in
to a susurration, the dense starlings,  
of the real—
the huge
sunflowers waving back at us,  
as we move

—the great grassy world  
that surrounds us,

1 comment:

Hanna said...

Beautiful picture and poem! I love the fall colors in Wedgwood. It's probably my favorite time of year in the neighborhood