<html><head><meta http-equiv="content-type" content="text/html; charset=utf-8"></head><body style="overflow-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;"><div dir="auto" style="overflow-wrap: break-word; -webkit-nbsp-mode: space; line-break: after-white-space;"><div class="gmail_default">I Saw Walt Whitman<br><br>I dreamed I saw Walt Whitman,<br>shirt open, beard — a nest unwound,<br>standing in our class reunion photograph. <br>His wry smile. His hand casually cradling<br>a glass. His eyes as clear as Long Island sun.<br><br>There is no way to cover a life’s memory,<br>I heard him say. Even though I got a B-<br>on my essay on Leaves of Grass, I still like him,<br>although, after a few drinks he goes on rambling<br>much too long, but who doesn’t at our age?<br><br>He’d complain later after dinner about being stuck.<br>A twentieth century man in the 1800's America.<br>It made me laugh. That was nothing compared<br>to being a twentieth century man left adrift in the 21st.<font color="#888888"><br></font></div><div class="gmail_default"><br></div><div class="gmail_default"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>- David Handsher</div></div></body></html>