I have ransacked the encyclopedias
And slid my fingers among topics and titles
Looking for you.
And the answer comes slow.
There seems to be no answer.
I shall ask the next banana peddler the who and the why of it.
Or - the iceman with his iron tongs gripping a clear cube
in summer sunlight - maybe he will know.
- - The great American poet, Carl Sandberg, who died this day in 1967,
Via the newsletter of Today in Literature.
Posted by Vanderleun at July 22, 2003 11:03 AM