Carl Sandburg

(6 January 1878 – 22 July 1967 / Illinois)

Carl Sandburg Poems

441. Young Sea 1/3/2003
442. Dreams In The Dusk 1/3/2003
443. A Teamster's Farewell 1/3/2003
444. From The Shore 1/3/2003
445. A Fence 1/3/2003
446. And They Obey 1/3/2003
447. A Sphinx 1/3/2003
448. Honky Tonk In Cleveland, Ohio 1/3/2003
449. Among The Red Guns 1/3/2003
450. All Day Long 1/3/2003
451. Grass 1/3/2003
452. A Coin 1/3/2003
453. A Father To His Son 4/2/2010
454. At A Window 1/3/2003
455. Autumn Movement 1/4/2003
456. Arithmetic 1/3/2003
457. Chicago 1/3/2003
458. Fog 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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