Welcome to Ken and Molly's web site.
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Are you surprised to learn that we've returned to
Long Island, New York?
"(O I see what I sought to escape, confronting, reversing my cries,
I see my own soul trampling down what it ask'd for.)
Keep your splendid silent sun,
Keep your woods O Nature, and the quiet places by the woods,
Keep your fields of clover and timothy, and your corn-fields and
orchards,
Keep the blossoming buckwheat fields where the Ninth-month bees hum;
Give me faces and streets—give me these phantoms
incessant and endless along the trottoirs!"
Walt Whitman (1819-1892),
U.S. poet. Give Me the Splendid Silent Sun (l. 18-24). . .
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