I am really getting through winter in Michigan by rediscovering the excitement of amazing writing. “Leaves of Grass”, a book that has long intimidated me, is becoming a friend, though one I only understand some of its language. Some parts I get but disagree with, but isn’t this the case in every “friendship”? I love the realness of the American dream, suffering, and understanding Whitman writes about. I especially seem to connect with his war poetry in “Song of Myself” as well as later in my edition, “Drum Taps.” I also just found the famous, “Oh Captain, My Captain!” (not my favorite after all). It’s so comforting to find that those in the Civil War were as real as we are today, and had as many feelings common to me, and yet were so brave. it gives me hope that I, too, could be that brave if called to be.
