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Thursday, 4 October 2018

A GLIMPSE by Walt Whitman


                                 A GLIMPSE, through an interstice caught,

                                 Or a crowd of workmen and drivers in a bar-room,around

                                 the stove, late of a winter

                                 night...And I

                                 unremark'd seated in a corner;

                                 Of a youth who loves me, and whom I love, silently

                                 approaching, and seating himself near,



                                 may hold me by the hand;

                                 A long while, amid the noises of coming and going--of

                                 drinking and oath and smutty 


                                 There we two, content, happy in being together,speaking

                                 little, perhaps not a word. 

                                                                     WALT WHITMAN

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