AMONG the bumble-bees in red-top hay, a freckled field of brown-eyed Susans dripping yellow leaves in July, | |
I read your heart in a book. | |
And your mouth of blue pansy—I know somewhere I have seen it rain-shattered. | |
And I have seen a woman with her head flung between her naked knees, and her head held there listening to the sea, the great naked sea shouldering a load of salt. | |
And the blue pansy mouth sang to the sea: | 5 |
Mother of God, I’m so little a thing, | |
Let me sing longer, | |
Only a little longer. | |
And the sea shouldered its salt in long gray combers hauling new shapes on the beach sand. |
Thursday, August 16, 2012
adelaide crapsey, by carl sandburg
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