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.
I spot the hills With yellow balls in autumn. I light the prairie cornfields Orange and tawny gold clusters And I am called pumpkins. On the last of October When dusk is fallen Children join hands And circle round me Singing ghost songs And love to the harvest moon; I am a jack-o’-lantern With terrible teeth And the children know I am fooling.
The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
Hog Butcher for the World,
Tool maker, Stacker of Wheat,
Player with Railroads and the Nation's
Freight Handler;
Stormy, husky, brawling,