Monday in CinCity. The Memorial Day Edition.

A Sight in Camp in the Daybreak Gray and Dim

by Walt Whitman

A sight in camp in the daybreak gray and dim,

As from my tent I emerge so early sleepless,

As slow I walk in the cool fresh air the path near by the hospital tent,

Three forms I see on stretchers lying, brought out there untended lying,

Over each the blanket spread, ample brownish woolen blanket,

Gray and heavy blanket, folding, covering all.

Curious I halt and silent stand,

Then with light fingers I from the face of the nearest the first

just lift the blanket;

Who are you elderly man so gaunt and grim, with well-gray'd hair,

and flesh all sunken about the eyes?

Who are you my dear comrade?

Then to the second I step--and who are you my child and darling?

Who are you sweet boy with cheeks yet blooming?

Then to the third--a face nor child nor old, very calm, as of

beautiful yellow-white ivory;

Young man I think I know you--I think this face is the face of the

Christ himself,

Dead and divine and brother of all, and here again he lies

please note: many thanks to Nance for telling me about this lovely poem and many, many thanks to our servicemen and women throughout the years


  1. Hooray, more kudos for Walt. So glad you like this. I read it once at a protest against the Iraq War. It was very moving to so many in attendance.

    To anyone else who likes this poem, please read more of Walt Whitman's work. I highly recommend his "Song of Myself" poem, a journey of self-discovery of 52 poems in a series. So wonderful and exuberant, yet thoughtful and beautiful and highly readable.


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Hey, thanks for your thoughts and your time:>)

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