Song of the Rolling Earth

"Human bodies are words," Whitman says. "Every part able, active, receptive, without shame or the need of shame."

I am tired today. I should not complain. Tired is good. Did a good nights work, and now my thoughts are scattered, my attention demanded by a cat calling to be smothered with affection.

"...words are in the ground and sea, they are in the air, they are in you."

I am the word in the river, the word in the sky's high horizon serrated by tall buildings. I look across Whitman's Brooklyn Ferry Crossing this 21st Century day and find the bodies in his words, the words in his bodies. The Lust in his bodies without shame or need of shame, but gloriously, deliriously happy to be alive. The word in the pleasure craft and the commercial craft gliding through perpetual time. Defining moments, and words, and me.