Me And Walt

I’m working through whitman’s song of myself

More than once I have sat reading all that I could

On  and on as it flew ‘til I finally stood

Trying to hold it all, at one time in my mind,

Not as walt did, I tried not to leave it behind

But it washes on through, and so, becomes me.
Is that what he wanted us all to behold?

Or is it that self seldom seen with the eye

Hmm, I wonder 'bout whitman as the days unfold,

Not alone, of course, but with me, myself and I.