Little Willow (slayground) wrote,
Little Willow
slayground

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Poetry Friday: Pencils

Pencils
telling where the wind comes from
open a story.

Pencils
telling where the wind goes
end a story.

These eager pencils
come to a stop
. . only . . when the stars high over
come to a stop.

Out of cabalistic to-morrows
come cryptic babies calling life
a strong and a lovely thing.
I have seen neither these
nor the stars high over
come to a stop.
Neither these nor the sea horses
running with the clocks of the moon.
Nor even a shooting star
snatching a pencil of fire
writing a curve of gold and white.
Like you . . I counted the shooting stars of a winter
night and my head was dizzy with all
of them calling one by one:

      Look for us again.

-- Playthings of the World: Pencils by Carl Sandburg
Tags: poetry friday
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