Moonset Poem by Carl Sandburg
Moonset
LEAVES of poplars pick Japanese prints against the west.
Moon sand on the canal doubles the changing pictures.
The moon's good-by ends pictures.
The west is empty. All else is empty. No moon-talk at all now.
Only dark listening to dark.
Monday, January 27, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: dark,leaves,moon
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7/31/2026 9:17:57 AM # rel_20260727T173023Z_37e450e
