Carl Sandburg

(6 January 1878 – 22 July 1967 / Illinois)

Poems of Carl Sandburg

401. Three Pieces On The Smoke Of Autumn 1/27/2014
402. Three Spring Notations On Bipeds 1/27/2014
403. Three Violins 1/27/2014
404. Threes 1/3/2003
405. Throw Roses 1/27/2014
406. Throwbacks 1/27/2014
407. Timber Wings 1/27/2014
408. To A Contemporary Bunkshooter 1/13/2003
409. To A Dead Man 1/13/2003
410. To Beachey, 1912 1/13/2003
411. To Certain Journeymen 1/13/2003
412. Trafficker 1/13/2003
413. Trinity Place 1/27/2014
414. Troths 1/3/2003
415. Two 1/13/2003
416. Two Items 1/27/2014
417. Two Neighbors 1/13/2003
418. Two Strangers Breakfast 1/27/2014
419. Under 1/13/2003
420. Under A Hat Rim 1/13/2003

Silver Nails

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
we use silver nails. . ." So he went jeering. They
did not understand him at first. Later they talked about
him in changed voices in the saloons, bowling alleys, and
churches. It came over them every man is crucified
only once in his life and the law of humanity dictates

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