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Carl Sandburg - Clocks

HERE is a face that says half-past seven the same way whether a murder or a wedding goes on, whether a funeral or a picnic
crowd passes.
A tall one I know at the end of a hallway broods in shadows and is watching booze eat out the insides of the man of the
house; it has seen five hopes go in five years: one woman, one child, and three dreams.
A little one carried in a leather box by an actress rides with her to hotels and is under her pillow in a sleeping-car
between one-night stands.
One hoists a phiz over a railroad station; it points numbers to people a quarter-mile away who believe it when other clocks
fail.
And of course … there are wrist watches over the pulses of airmen eager to go to France…        5

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Added: Feb 4 2004 | Viewed: 7763 times | Comments and analysis of Clocks by Carl Sandburg Comments (0)

Clocks - Comments and Information

Poet: Carl Sandburg
Poem: 9. Clocks
Volume: Cornhuskers
- Leather Leggings
Year: Published/Written in 1918
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