Archive for the ‘Carl Sandburg’ Tag

7:00 am View From Our Patio   1 comment

Moonset View From Patio-art-1-727:00 am View From Our Patio — Recent Fullmoon Setting Photo-Artistry by kenne

“The moon is friend for the lonesome to talk to.”

― Carl Sandburg

Sandpipers   1 comment

San Diego 01-15-13Sandpipers — Image by kenne


Sandland where the salt water kills the sweet potatoes.
Homes for sandpipers-the script of their feet is on the sea shingles —
they write in the morning,
it is gone at noon-they write at noon,
it is gone at night.
Pity the land, the sea,
the ten mile flats,
pity anything but the sandpiper’s wire legs and feet.
— Carl Sandburg

Foggy Morning   Leave a comment

FoggyWinterMorning0232 I blogFoggy Morning (The Woodlands, Texas, March 2003) — Image by kenne

The fog comes on little cat feet. It sits looking over harbor and city on silent haunches and then moves on.   

— Carl Sandburg 

My Neighborhood   2 comments

Tanuri RidgeMy Neighborhood — Computer Painting by kenne

Love your neighbor as yourself, 
but don’t take down the fence.

— Carl Sandburg

Windswept Grasslands   Leave a comment

Bug Springs 2012Windswept Grasslands in the Santa Catalina Mountains — Image by kenne

Taking inspiration from the likes of Lewis Carroll, Robert Frost and Carl Sandburg.

Branches reach into the dark sky

over windswept grasslands,

directing our eyes and ears

to the relationship between

the living and the dead.

— kenne

Capturing The Moment –Fairy Duster   Leave a comment

Fairy Duster (1 of 1) art blogFairy Duster — Image by kenne

Fairy Dusters dance to the mountain winds

dusting the air with the magic of color

staging the return of spring.

— kenne

”Poetry is an echo, asking a shadow to dance.”

— Carl Sandburg

“. . . till they came to one wooden pole”   Leave a comment

Bear Wallow (1 of 1)-17_edit blogFall leaves and moss on an old tree stump, Mt. Lemmon. — Image by kenne

these people of the air

these people of the wind,

has a sense of where to go and how,

how to go north north-by-west north,

till they came to one wooden pole,

till they were home again.

— from The People, Yes, by Carl Sandburg


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