Anna Imroth

uspar Carl Sandburg

Cross the hands over the breast here--so.
Straighten the legs a little more--so.
And call for the wagon to come and take her home.
Her mother will cry some and so will her sisters and
brothers.
But all of the others got down and they are safe and
this is the only one of the factory girls who
wasn't lucky in making the jump when the fire broke.
It is the hand of God and the lack of fire escapes.



Carl Sandburg

Autres poésies de Carl Sandburg

Primer Lesson

uspar Carl Sandburg, publié le mar. 18/05/2010 à 22:53

Look out how you use proud words.
When you let proud words go, it is not easy to call them back.

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June

uspar Carl Sandburg, publié le dim. 16/05/2010 à 14:32

Paula is digging and shaping the loam of a salvia,
Scarlet Chinese talker of summer.

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It Is Much

uspar Carl Sandburg, publié le mar. 11/05/2010 à 18:04

Women of night life amid the lights
Where the line of your full, round throats
Matches in gleam the glint of your eyes

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A Coin

uspar Carl Sandburg, publié le dim. 09/05/2010 à 05:40

Your western heads here cast on money,
You are the two that fade away together,
Partners in the mist.

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Bronzes

uspar Carl Sandburg, publié le mar. 04/05/2010 à 18:56

I
The bronze General Grant riding a bronze horse in Linc-
oln Park
Shrivels in the sun by day when the motor cars whirr

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Halsted Street Car

uspar Carl Sandburg, publié le jeu. 29/04/2010 à 14:01

Come you, cartoonists,
Hang on a strap with me here
At seven o?clock in the morning
On a Halsted street car.
Take your pencils

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