Carl Sandburg Poems

In the cool of the night time
The clocks pick off the points
And the mainsprings loosen.
They will need winding.
...

Cover me over
In dusk and dust and dreams.

Cover me over
...

While the hum and the hurry
Of passing footfalls
Beat in my ear like the restless surf
Of a wind-blown sea,
...

Dust of the feet
And dust of the wheels,
Wagons and people going,
All day feet and wheels.
...

When country fiddlers held a convention in
Danville, the big money went to a barn dance
artist who played Turkey in the Straw, with
variations.
...

I waited today for a freight train to pass.
Cattle cars with steers butting their horns against the
bars, went by.
And a half a dozen hoboes stood on bumpers between
...

I

A storm of white petals,
Buds throwing open baby fists
...

A man was crucified. He came to the city a stranger,
was accused, and nailed to a cross. He lingered hanging.
Laughed at the crowd. "The nails are iron," he
said, "You are cheap. In my country when we crucify
...

Yellow dust on a bumble
bee's wing,
Grey lights in a woman's
asking eyes,
...

Napoleon shifted,
Restless in the old sarcophagus
And murmured to a watchguard:
"Who goes there?"
...