Tuesday, January 6, 2009

Sand scribblings


Musing:
Sand Scribblings by Carl Sandburg
"The wind stops, the wind begins.
The wind says stop, begin.

A sea shovel scrapes the sand floor.
The shovel changes, the floor changes.

The sandpipers, maybe they know.
Maybe a three-pointed foot can tell.
Maybe the fog moon they fly to, guesses.

The sandpipers cheep “Here” and get away.
Five of them fly and keep together flying.

Night hair of some sea woman
Curls on the sand when the sea leaves
The salt tide without a good-by.

Boxes on the beach are empty.
Shake ’em and the nails loosen.
They have been somewhere."

4 comments:

  1. I have visited Carl Sandburg's home in North Carolina and thought of it as I read the poem, what kind of man would write that poem. Very cinematic. You have a real feel for the shore, JE.

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  2. I agree with PJ: you have a real feel for the shore. The scenario you are painting with your images is delicate and pastel and clean. It is the life of the shore rather than how people use it for their own selfish ends.

    Quite lovely ...

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  3. No pelican? Where will I get my fix for today?

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  4. Be patient. It will be there in about half an hour. They are set up post at 10:00am (Australian Eastern Time) each day.

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