Iron
Carl Sandburg
Guns, Long, steel guns, Pointed from the war ships In the name of the war god. Straight, shining, polished guns, Clambered over with jackies in white blouses, Glory of tan faces, tousled hair, white teeth, Laughing lithe jackies in white blouses, Sitting on the guns singing war songs, war chanties. Shovels, Broad, iron shovels, Scooping out oblong vaults, Loosening turf and leveling sod. I ask you To witness— The shovel is brother to the gun.
Next 10 Poems
Previous 10 Poems
- Carl Sandburg : In A Breath
- Carl Sandburg : In A Back Alley
- Carl Sandburg : Ice Handler
- Carl Sandburg : I Sang
- Carl Sandburg : I Am The People, The Mob
- Carl Sandburg : Hydrangeas
- Carl Sandburg : Have Me
- Carl Sandburg : Harrison Street Court
- Carl Sandburg : Happiness
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