Hydrangeas Poem by Carl Sandburg

Hydrangeas

Rating: 2.7


Dragoons, I tell you the white hydrangeas turn rust and go soon.
Already mid September a line of brown runs over them.
One sunset after another tracks the faces, the petals.
Waiting, they look over the fence for what way they go.

Friday, January 3, 2003
Topic(s) of this poem: september,sunset
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