Friday, January 20, 2012

Docks by Carl Sandburg

Carl Sandburg must have loved the oceans.  Here he is capturing big blue's powerful beauty and exciting mystery.


Strolling along
By the teeming docks,
I watch the ships put out.
Black ships that heave and lunge
And move like mastodons
Arising from lethargic sleep.

The fathomed harbor
Calls them not nor dares
Them to a strain of action,
But outward, on and outward,
Sounding low-reverberating calls,
Shaggy in the half-lit distance,
They pass the pointed headland,
View the wide, far-lifting wilderness
And leap with cumulative speed
To test the challenge of the sea.

Doggedly onward plunging,
Into salt and mist and foam and sun.

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