grass

A child said, "what is the grass?" fetching it to me with full hands;
I guess it must be the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven.
Or I guess it is the handkerchief of the Lord.
A scented gift that Remembrancer designedly dropped,
Bearing the owner's name some where in the corners,
That we may see and remark, and say, "whose?"
--Walt Whitman