Poem: Reconciliation

–Walt Whitman

Word over all, beau­ti­ful as the sky,
Beau­ti­ful that war and all its deeds of car­nage must in time be
        utter­ly lost,
That the hands of the sis­ter Death and Night incessantly
        soft­ly wash again, and
ever again, this soil’d world;
For my ene­my is head, a man divine as myself is dead,
I look where he lies white-faced and still in the cof­fin — I draw
Bend down and touch light­ly with my lips the white face in
        the coffin.

Cyn is Katie's mom, Esther's Mémé, and a Support Engineer. She lives in the Atlanta area with her life partner, Rick, and their critters. She knits, does counted-thread needlework, reads, makes music, plays TTRPGs, and spends too much time online.
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