“Live the life you’ve dreamed.” ~HDT

Sam Green is the Washington State Poet Laureate. I heard him interviewed on NPR and he talked about how he sent a poem a day via postcard to someone he knew and at the end of the year, he had a body of work.

After I heard him speak, I obsessively looked up the small Island of Waldron, where he lives and has build a house and book press. My heart beat a little faster at the thought of leaving the world to live and breathe poetry, literally every moment.

It reminded me a bit of when I went to Walden, to mingle with the spirit of Henry David Thoreau.

This life calls to me. I dream it.


Old Man Folding a Kerchief in the Supermarket

for Hayden Carruth

He has used it to wipe the filth
from the table where his daughter
has left him to do her shopping
spilling it from the pocket of his jacket
like a small blue lake
the color of an old house dress.

Now, he is folding it back into shape
with blunt fingers, hunched
over his labor, watching intently
his hands as though
they might betray him.

For ten minutes this has been
his whole work, & he has gathered
all the delicate threads
of his attention into this single
act, oblivious to the fact
that anyone might be watching,
that he might be teaching us all
how to live.

~Sam Green


I Knew A Man By Sight

I knew a man by sight,
A blameless wight,
Who, for a year or more,
Had daily passed my door,
Yet converse none had had with him.

I met him in a lane,
Him and his cane,
About three miles from home,
Where I had chanced to roam,
And volumes stared at him, and he at me.

In a more distant place
I glimpsed his face,
And bowed instinctively;
Starting he bowed to me,
Bowed simultaneously, and passed along.

Next, in a foreign land
I grasped his hand,
And had a social chat,
About this thing and that,
As I had known him well a thousand years.

Late in a wilderness
I shared his mess,
For he had hardships seen,
And I a wanderer been;
He was my bosom friend, and I was his.

And as, methinks, shall all,
Both great and small,
That ever lived on earth,
Early or late their birth,
Stranger and foe, one day each other know.

~Henry David Thoreau


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