Moon Over The Bay
Last weekend I drove across the Bay to hear a friend play music in Sausalito. It was an unusually clear night, and a big moon danced on the water. Be sure to double click on them; they're larger than usual. I share the rest with some passages from Walt Whitman's Leaves of Grass. The city sleeps and the country sleeps, The living sleep for their time . . . . the dead sleep for their time, The old husband sleeps by his wife and the young husband sleeps by his wife; And these one and all tend inward to me, and I tend outward to them, And such as it is to be of these more or less I am. We are about approaching some great battlefield in which we are soon to be engaged, We pass the colossal outposts of the encampments . . . . we pass with still feet and caution; Or we are entering by the suburbs some vast and ruined city . . . . the blocks and fallen architecture more than all the living cities of the globe. Of the turbid pool that lies in the autumn fore