the grand exit of my grandfather. rip.

The past and present wilt — I have fill'd them, emptied them, And proceed to fill my next fold of the future.

The past and present wilt — I have fill'd them, emptied them,
And proceed to fill my next fold of the future.

~~~

 "I depart as air, I shake my white locks at the runaway sun,
I effuse my flesh in eddies, and drift it in lacy jags.

I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love,
If you want me again look for me under your boot-soles.

You will hardly know who I am or what I mean,
But I shall be good health to you nevertheless,
And filter and fibre your blood.

Failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged,
Missing me one place search another,
I stop somewhere waiting for you."

~~~

Song of Myself // Leaves of Grass // Walt Whitman

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TJ Romero2 Comments