Walt Whitman A Gift of Days The Alcorn Studio & Gallery
Granada Sings Whitman
By the river Genil
lovers sing what belongs to the water,
a shoemaker sings the dream he had,
his helper the dream he didn't,
a man sings to the woman
on the broken mattress,
death at midday sings,
on the banks of the Darro
a blind thief
collecting golden poplars sings,
and so does the crevice of quivers,
the saints flaming in la Sierra
and the men rehearsing a country.
They know nothing stays,
but when Whitman sings—
they allow his voice
to take them apart.
--
...nothing stays...
This message has arrived through every possible medium: books, conversations, radio and TV programs, comics, poetry.
I can't say that I really get it that nothing stays yet, but I am starting to understand that nothing, and I mean nothing stays.
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