# data[].attributes.body
Suddenly, I saw a flash of light, his face appeared in front of me, and then he was gone. I stood alone in the hospital hallway looking around to see if anyone else had seen the light. "Am I going crazy?" I wondered. I decided to go home and rest - it had been a long day. As I turned towards the exit, a leaf of grass on the ground caught my eye. What does this all mean? Was this the ghost of Walt Whitman? I guess I`ll never know but his memory will always stay with me.

# data[].attributes.body
As I turned the pages I had the strange feeling of having been there, of having shared the inspiration with the author. I couldn't put it down until the end, and left my home in a hurry. I wanted to thank the man with the long white beard for this unexpected gift.

When I arrived at the hospital and run upstairs to his room I found it empty.

I asked about my friend Walt but nobody had seen him leave...

# data[].attributes.body
...Kenneth. It was back in 2005, 150 years after "Leaves of Grass" had first seen the public light. Kenneth had told me about "The Sesquicentennial Essays" that had been collected to celebrate the publication of that book, of that Hymn... I recall I was really captured by his voice and the enthusiasm he had when mentioning how daring and revolutionary Whitman's work had been. That's when I had decided I had to read it: I had to read the work of a poet who had taught humanity to celebrate humanity itself. And now, years later... could Kenneth be somehow related to that man on the street I had taken to the library? Was that why his features were somehow familiar to me? Of course! Then I remembered.... I had promised him I'd read the book and that I'd contact him afterwards...

# data[].attributes.body
The first thing he said to me was: Did you finish it? What do you think?. I didn't know what he was talking about, but suddenly I remembered my first year at university. It was the first book I ever borrowed from the library, the day I met...

# data[].attributes.body
so I decided to leave him at the library and continue my way home. However, when I had teached the door, somebody took my arm so strong I couldn't move. It was the librarian: the man had fainted and had said my name before falling into the floor. How could he know my name? What was happening here? I decided to take him to the nearest hospital. Later on, I would have a conversation with him.

# data[].attributes.body
...Obviously, I recognised the play, but I didn't understand the man. What did he want? Why was he repeating the title of this literary work all the time? I tried to calm him down, but his sorrowful look was worrying. I accompanied him to the nearby library and I indicated him he could enter and ask for the book to read. However, at the same time, I thought he would not be allowed to come into the building due to careless aspect. He insisted saying 'Leaves of Grass'!, but I couldn't do anything more for him. Maybe he was a poor crazy man wandering the streets...

# data[].attributes.body
...he had no front teeth and could not articulate the words easily. Besides there was a lot of noise that rainy morning coming from the busy traffic. I did not know what to do.My first intention was to ignore him as people usually do to strangers when they approach you.But there was  something in him, a certain resemblance to Walt Whitman, that made me stop. He had placed his tiny hand on my arm and with an almost inaudible voice  managed to utter: "Leaves of Grass" "Leaves of Grass"...

# data[].attributes.body
It was a freezing cold rainy day. I slept through my alarm clock so I missed the bus. As I was running towards the bus station a strange man stopped me. He was medium height and skinny with a long dirty grey beard. He was wearing a hat that covered his eyes and he was soaking wet. It was difficult to understand him because...