CARL SANDBURG VISITS ME
IN THE EARLY MORNING

O Carl
I run with my own
sumac-red dogs

a river of sundered waters
wandering through a valley
of thin willows

the grass that burns
on the buckskin hills
and its smoke

the sky turned upside down
and filled with sand raked smooth
with a locust thorn

and these with you
the ghosts of eyes
tomorrow    and a million years


© 2001 by Richard W. Todd

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