Friday, November 5, 2010

Autumn Movement - Poem by Carl Sandburg

I cried over beautiful things knowing no
beautiful thing lasts.
The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf
at the neck of the copper sunburned woman,
the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.
The northwest wind comes and the yellow is
torn full of holes, new beautiful things
come in the first spit of snow on the northwest
wind, and the old things go,not one lasts.

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