Window
Night from a railroad car window
Is a great, dark, soft thing
Broken across with slashes of light.
This poem is in the public domain.
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The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
1919
Hog Butcher for the World,
Tool maker, Stacker of Wheat,
Player with Railroads and the Nation's
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Under the harvest moon, When the soft silver Drips shimmering Over the garden nights, Death, the gray mocker, Comes and whispers to you As a beautiful friend Who remembers. Under the summer roses When the flagrant crimson Lurks in the dusk Of the wild red leaves, Love, with little hands, Comes and touches you With a thousand memories, And asks you Beautiful, unanswerable questions.
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