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Carl Sandburg - Sand Scribblings

THE WIND stops, the wind begins.
The wind says stop, begin.
  
A sea shovel scrapes the sand floor.
The shovel changes, the floor changes.
  
The sandpipers, maybe they know.
Maybe a three-pointed foot can tell.
Maybe the fog moon they fly to, guesses.
  
The sandpipers cheep “Here” and get away.
Five of them fly and keep together flying.
  
Night hair of some sea woman
Curls on the sand when the sea leaves
The salt tide without a good-by.
  
Boxes on the beach are empty.
Shake ’em and the nails loosen.
They have been somewhere.

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Added: Feb 4 2004 | Viewed: 289 times | Comments and analysis of Sand Scribblings by Carl Sandburg Comments (0)

Sand Scribblings - Comments and Information

Poet: Carl Sandburg
Poem: 26. Sand Scribblings
Volume: Smoke and Steel
- V. Mist Forms
Year: Published/Written in 1922
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