Walt Whitman

The line
"And grass and white and red morning-glories, and white and red
clover, and the song of the phoebe-bird, "
 connects to me because we used to have a lot of clover growing my back yard.  I never knew what to do with it so I just picked it and everyday in the summer i would bring in a bouquet of clover. my mother would diligently put them in a little vase and keep them until the next day when I would brin ginmore.  Then one day when I was at my babysitter's, she taught me how to weave the white clover into bracelettes and necklaces. So from that day forth i would sit out in the yard, daily, and weave a bracelette and necklace for my mom. She would look at them and say they were beautiful then I would fashion them so they were around her wrist and neck.  Right before she went to bed shse would take them off and put them on the table and in the moring they would bewhithered and sad looking, so then I just made her a new one.  Today i cannot remember the last time I weaved one of those bracelettes, but I still know how.