Passers-by

Passers-by
Out of your many faces
Flash memories to me
Now at the day end
Away from the sidewalks
Where your shoe soles traveled
And your voices rose and blent
To form the city's afternoon roar
Hindering an old silence.

Passers-by,
I remember lean ones among you,
Throats in the cluch of a hope,
Lips written over with strivings,
Mouths that kiss only for love,
Records of great wishes slept with,
Held long
And prayed and toiled for:

Yes,
Written on
Your mouths
And your throats
I read them
When you passed by.

Carl Sandburg



[This poem (along with most) gets better each time you read it. Come back later, you'll be doing yourself a favor.]

[[Today was wonderful. Westerville Central is blessed to have such a sweet personable librarian and more resources than I could have imagined having at South. I saw many sweet faces I recognized, making my visit that much better. I cannot wait to be a librarian.]]