Two Strangers Breakfast Poem by Carl Sandburg
Two Strangers Breakfast
THE LAW says you and I belong to each other, George.
The law says you are mine and I am yours, George.
And there are a million miles of white snowstorms, a million furnaces of hell,
Between the chair where you sit and the chair where I sit.
The law says two strangers shall eat breakfast together after nights on the horn of an Arctic moon.
Monday, January 27, 2014
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4/25/2024 2:20:18 AM # 1.0.0.1119
