Under

uswritten by Carl Sandburg

I
I am the undertow
Washing tides of power
Battering the pillars
Under your things of high law.

II
I am a sleepless
Slowfaring eater,
Maker of rust and rot
In your bastioned fastenings,
Caissons deep.

III
I am the Law
Older than you
And your builders proud.

I am deaf
In all days
Whether you
Say "Yes" or "No".

I am the crumbler:
To-morrow.



Carl Sandburg

Other poems by Carl Sandburg

Plowboy

uswritten by Carl Sandburg, published on Sun 06.28.2009 at 01:59

After the last red sunset glimmer,
Black on the line of a low hill rise,
Formed into moving shadows, I saw

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The Walking Man Of Rodin

uswritten by Carl Sandburg, published on Thu 06.25.2009 at 18:28

Legs hold a torso away from the earth.
And a regular high poem of legs is here.
Powers of bone and cord raise a belly and lungs

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On the Way

uswritten by Carl Sandburg, published on Tue 06.23.2009 at 19:04

Little one, you have been buzzing in the books,
Flittering in the newspapers and drinking beer with lawyers

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To Certain Journeymen

uswritten by Carl Sandburg, published on Sun 06.21.2009 at 02:40

Undertakers, hearse drivers, grave diggers,
I speak to you as one not afraid of your business.

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Good Night

uswritten by Carl Sandburg, published on Thu 06.11.2009 at 10:22

Many ways to say good night.
Fireworks at a pier on the Fourth of July
spell it with red wheels and yellow spokes.

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From the Shore

uswritten by Carl Sandburg, published on Mon 05.25.2009 at 06:24

A lone gray bird,
Dim-dipping, far-flying,
Alone in the shadows and grandeurs and tumults
Of night and the sea

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