Fog by Carl Sandburg


The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

Carl Sandburg (January 6, 1878 – July 22, 1967)


8 comments on “Fog by Carl Sandburg

  1. bennythomas says:

    Sandburg’s poem made me come up with this.“A Pioneer I am not”-
    Through a little fog that
    Masked my fears
    The city as lost- so seemed to me
    beamed a code
    Long, short, long:
    ‘get lost bud!’
    Even as the fog lifted
    I knew it well
    Lost Atlantis lay at my feet.
    But sum of all my fears
    Like a purring cat
    Had me to my old haunts turn.
    I have a blog with a similar theme


  2. Cool, Benny.

    I can’t seem to get to your byronin blog just now. My Internet connection is going at the speed of molasses.


  3. Got there this time.

    “A Cruel Joke” is my favorite so far.


  4. That photo and poem go so well together … eerie and beautiful.


  5. SilverSeason says:

    My mother read me this poem when I was quite young. It is one of the first poems I remember that got beyond Jack and Jill. I did actually get it — that fog and the stealthy motion of a cat are somehow related. Thanks for reminding me of that.


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