As I sit the coffee cup on the table next to the journal a saucery looking black blends with the moving pen.

The words you now read as your finger guides along the surface of the page disappears into the darkness of a thick looking index shape.

My fear is your heart will not be inspired by this poem and you will only recall the shifting shadows.

So next time you read this turn down the lights and imagine Walt Whitman as the author. Everything he wrote moves us. His was a call for the normal to reach the greatness inside while being kind.

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