“O Living Always, Always Dying,” ~A Poem By Walt Whitman
O living always, always dying!
O the burials of me past and present,
O me while I stride ahead, material, visible, imperious as ever;
O me, what I was for years, now dead, (I lament not, I am content;)
O to disengage myself from those corpses of me, which I turn and look at where I cast them,
To pass on, (O living! always living!) and leave the corpses behind.
This entry was posted on March 2, 2009 at 2:05 pm and is filed under poetry with tags Always Dying, O Living Always, poetry, Walt Whitman. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
