Carl Sandburg

(6 January 1878 – 22 July 1967 / Illinois)

Hydrangeas - Poem by Carl Sandburg

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.


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Read poems about / on: september, sunset, running



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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