LEAVES of poplars pick Japanese prints against the west.
Moon sand on the canal doubles the changing pictures.
      The moon’s good-by ends pictures.
The west is empty. All else is empty. No moon-talk at all now.
      Only dark listening to dark.        5

Added: Feb 4 2004 | Viewed: 3019 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Carl Sandburg
Poem: 24. Moonset
Volume: Cornhuskers
- Haunts
Year: Published/Written in 1918
Poem of the Day: Aug 31 2005
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