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User Rating:
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6.3
/10
(55 votes)
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Pile the bodies high at Austerlitz and Waterloo.
Shovel them under and let me work--
I am the grass; I cover all.
And pile them high at Gettysburg
And pile them high at Ypres and Verdun.
Shovel them under and let me work.
Two years, ten years, and the passengers ask the conductor:
What place is this?
Where are we now?
I am the grass.
Let me work.
Carl Sandburg
| Submitted Date |
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Friday, January 03, 2003 |
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Read poems about / on: work
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Comments about this poem (Grass
by
Carl Sandburg
) |
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Jane Moon (5/15/2009 11:59:00 AM)
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The horrific deeds or war, destruction of men, incomprehensible evils, all seem eradicated by nature's gentle work. Grass covers all, in time, but should the devastation be forgotten?
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Basil Demple (11/21/2007 10:36:00 AM)
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One of Sandburg's best.
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Goldy Locks (2/19/2007 12:23:00 PM)
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Last two lines are priceless.
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