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Monday, July 4, 2011

poetry monday: I Hear America Singing

I knew exactly what poem I would have for this Monday and holiday. Really, it's the only one that fits.

I Hear America Singing

I hear America singing, the varied carols I hear,
Those of mechanics, each one singing his as it should be blithe
       and strong.
The carpenter singing his as he measures his plank or beam,
The mason singing his as he makes ready for work, or leaves off
The boatman singing what belongs to him in his boat, the deck-
        hand singing on the steamboat deck,
The shoemaker singing as he sits on his bench, the hatter singing
        as he stands,
The woodcutter's song, the ploughboy's on his way in the morning,
        or at noon intermission or at sundown,
The delicious singing of the mother, or of the young wife at work,
        or of the girl sewing and washing,
Each singing what belongs to him or her and to none else,
The day what belongs to the day - at night the party of young
        fellows, robust, friendly,
Singing with open mouths their strong melodious songs.

--Walt Whitman (1819 - 1892)

Happy Fourth of July!

Yours, in words and espresso.

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