Nothing New

The great writers, one piece at a time.

Walt Whitman · Leaves of Grass

Poem 305 of 382 · Sands at Seventy

The First Dandelion

— ✻ —

Simple and fresh and fair from winter’s close emerging, As if no artifice of fashion, business, politics, had ever been, Forth from its sunny nook of shelter’d grass--innocent, golden, calm as the dawn, The spring’s first dandelion shows its trustful face.

Receive Walt Whitman one poem at a time, every morning.
Subscribe →