|by Carl Sandburg (from Smoke and Steel, 1920)|
Many ways to say good night. Fireworks at a pier on the Fourth of July
spell it with red wheels and yellow spokes.
They fizz in the air, touch the water and quit.
Rockets make a trajectory of gold-and-blue
and then go out. Railroad trains at night spell with a smokestack mushrooming a white pillar.
Steamboats turn a curve in the Mississippi crying a baritone that crosses lowland cottonfields to razorback hill.
It is easy to spell good night.
Many ways to spell good night.
Happy belated 4th to you, Kev! Hope it was dazzling 🙂 .
Reblogged this on It Rains… You Get Wet and commented:
Perfect thoughts for the holiday
Early on the 4th I stopped at a lemonade stand (how could I not, such cute kids!) and Dad, who was collecting the money had a very striped top hat on (red, white, and blue) and he wished me a “Happy Holiday!” with a distinct British accent. I’d say that was very sporting of him 😉 .
I hope you had a gorgeous Fourth of July, Vickie.
I suspect the gent you mentioned above was a Limey spy lulling you into a false sense of security! (And I say that as a Limey! Bwahahahaha!)
It was gorgeous, and sweltering hot, and for a Limey spy he made great lemonade 😉 !
I forgot to say that your use of the Sandburg poem is a delight. He had such a very *American* style, the almost bluntly colloquial with High Poetry. Great choice, Madame Vickie.
“Bluntly colloquial with High Poetry,” that’s perfect!
*It is to blush!* You are too, too kind, Ms Lester.
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