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CARL SANDBURG
FALLTIME
BY CARL SANDBURG
GOLD Of a ripe oat straw, gold of a southwest moon,
Canada thistle blue and flimmering larkspur blue,
Tomatoes shining in the October sun with red hearts,
Shining five and six in a row on a wooden fence,
Why do you keep wishes on your faces all day long,
Wishes like women with half-forgotten lovers going to new cities?
What is there for you in the birds, the birds,
the birds, crying down on the north
wind in September, acres of birds
spotting the air going south?
Is there something finished? And some new
beginning on the way?
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