Carl Sandburg

(6 January 1878 – 22 July 1967 / Illinois)

Carl Sandburg Poems

401. Three Balls 1/21/2014
402. Three Ghosts 1/27/2014
403. Three Pieces On The Smoke Of Autumn 1/27/2014
404. Three Spring Notations On Bipeds 1/27/2014
405. Three Violins 1/27/2014
406. Threes 1/3/2003
407. Throw Roses 1/27/2014
408. Throwbacks 1/27/2014
409. Timber Wings 1/27/2014
410. Timesweep 6/22/2015
411. To A Contemporary Bunkshooter 1/13/2003
412. To A Dead Man 1/13/2003
413. To Beachey, 1912 1/13/2003
414. To Certain Journeymen 1/13/2003
415. Trafficker 1/13/2003
416. Trinity Place 1/27/2014
417. Troths 1/3/2003
418. Two 1/13/2003
419. Two Items 1/27/2014
420. Two Neighbors 1/13/2003
421. Two Strangers Breakfast 1/27/2014
422. Under 1/13/2003
423. Under A Hat Rim 1/13/2003
424. Under A Telephone Pole 1/3/2003
425. Under The Harvest Moon 1/3/2003
426. Uplands In May 1/13/2003
427. Upstairs 1/3/2003
428. Upstream 1/27/2014
429. Valley Song 1/4/2003
430. Vaudeville Dancer 1/27/2014
431. Village In Late Summer 1/27/2014
432. Waiting 1/13/2003
433. Wars 1/13/2003
434. Washerwoman 1/27/2014
435. Weeds 1/27/2014
436. Whiffletree 1/27/2014
437. Whirls 1/27/2014
438. White Ash 1/27/2014
439. White Hands 1/27/2014
440. White Shoulders 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Carl Sandburg

Fog

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

Read the full of Fog

Noon Hour

She sits in the dust at the walls
And makes cigars,
Bending at the bench
With fingers wage-anxious,
Changing her sweat for the day's pay.

Now the noon hour has come,
And she leans with her bare arms
On the window-sill over the river,

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