POEM
Lost
Carl SandburgDesolate and lone
All night long on the lake
Where fog trails and mist creeps,
The whistle of a boat
Calls and cries unendingly,
Like some lost child
In tears and trouble
Hunting the harbor's breast
And the harbor's eyes.
Source: Poetry (March 1914).
This poem originally appeared in the March 1914 issue of Poetry.
THIS ISSUE IS SOLD OUT
"Trying to write briefly about Carl Sandburg," said a friend of the poet, "is like trying to . . . MORE »
