BROTHER, I am fire
Surging under the ocean floor.
I shall never meet you, brother–
Not for years, anyhow;
Maybe thousands of years, brother.
Then I will warm you,
Hold you close, wrap you in circles,
Use you and change you–
Maybe thousands of years, brother.
Where the moon slants and wavers.
(Carl Sandburg)
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Based on Topics: Brothers PoemsBased on Keywords: wavers, slants