And So To-Day (Carl Sandburg Poems)
And so to-day--they lay him away-- the boy nobody knows the name of-- the buck private--the unknown soldier-- the doughboy ...
And so to-day--they lay him away-- the boy nobody knows the name of-- the buck private--the unknown soldier-- the doughboy ...
Wilson and Pilcer and Snack stood before the zoo elephant. Wilson said, "What is its name? Is it from ...
Many ways to say good night.Fireworks at a pier on the Fourth of July spell it with red wheels and ...
THE DOUBLE moon, one on the high back drop of the west, one on the curve of the river face, ...
MAKE war songs out of these; Make chants that repeat and weave. Make rhythms up to the ragtime chatter of ...
(For Paula)THE GRIP of the ice is gone now. The silvers chase purple. The purples tag silver. They let out ...
CHATTER of birds two by two raises a night song joining a litany of running water-sheer waters showing the russet ...
IF we were such and so, the same as these, maybe we too would be slingers and sliders, tumbling half ...
I HAVE been watching the war map slammed up for advertising in front of the newspaper office. Buttons--red and yellow ...
I TOOK away three pictures. One was a white gull forming a half-mile arch from the pines toward Waukegan. One ...
THERE is a wolf in me . fangs pointed for tearing gashes . a red tongue for raw meat . ...
(Bergen)SEVEN days all fog, all mist, and the turbines pounding through high seas. I was a plaything, a rat's neck ...
I HAVE lived in many half-worlds myself . and so I know you. I leaned at a deck rail watching ...
HOW many feet ran with sunlight, water, and air? What little devils shaken of laughter, cramming their little ribs with ...
MANY ways to spell good night. Fireworks at a pier on the Fourth of July spell it with red wheels ...
THE HIGH horses of the sea broke their white riders On the walls that held and counted the hours The ...
THE SHALE and water thrown together so-so first of all, Then a potter's hand on the wheel and his fingers ...
THE BRASS medallion profile of your face I keep always. It is not jingling with loose change in my pockets. ...
THIRTY-TWO Greeks are dipping their feet in a creek. Sloshing their bare feet in a cool flow of clear water. ...
I WAS born on the prairie and the milk of its wheat, the red of its clover, the eyes of ...
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