Carl Sandburg

(6 January 1878 – 22 July 1967 / Illinois)

Carl Sandburg Poems

161. Slippery 1/27/2014
162. Clocks 1/27/2014
163. Finish 1/27/2014
164. North Atlantic 1/21/2014
165. Smoke And Steel 1/21/2014
166. Haze 1/27/2014
167. Handfuls 1/27/2014
168. Horse Fiddle 1/27/2014
169. Cartoon 1/21/2014
170. Films 1/27/2014
171. Cups Of Coffee 1/27/2014
172. Smoke 1/27/2014
173. Upstream 1/27/2014
174. Hoodlums 1/27/2014
175. And So To-Day 1/27/2014
176. Fire Dreams 1/27/2014
177. Hats 1/27/2014
178. Moonset 1/27/2014
179. Home Fires 1/27/2014
180. Hits And Runs 1/27/2014
181. Remorse 1/27/2014
182. Night Stuff 1/27/2014
183. Proud And Beautiful 1/27/2014
184. Southern Pacific 1/27/2014
185. Chicks 1/21/2014
186. In Tall Grass 1/27/2014
187. Have Me 1/27/2014
188. River Moons 1/27/2014
189. Manufactured Gods 1/27/2014
190. Half Moon In A High Wind 1/27/2014
191. Remembered Women 1/27/2014
192. Love Beyond Keeping 1/27/2014
193. Harvest Sunset 1/27/2014
194. Yes , The Dead Speak To Us 1/21/2014
195. The Sea Hold 1/10/2015
196. Sleepyheads 1/27/2014
197. Prairie 1/21/2014
198. Cadenza 1/21/2014
199. Snow 1/27/2014
200. Four Preludes On Playthings Of The Wind 1/27/2014
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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