Tootfinder

Calamus 29 One flitting glimpse
What a sweet poem of quiet love. One of my favorites so far.
The setup is voyeuristic: we're spying on a bar full of men. And we see Whitman in a corner, and then
a youth who loves me, and whom I love, silently approaching, and seating himself near, that he may hold me by the hand
It astonishes me that these poems of clear homosexual love were published in 1860!
What's particularly nice is the contrast between the rowdy bar scene
drinking and oath and smutty jest
and the quiet intimacy of Whitman and his lover
we two, content, happy in being together, speaking little, perhaps not a word.
The expression of love here is universal. But it is a man writing about a man, in the company of men. And thus it is particularly mine.