Wednesday, January 7, 2015

1.5.15

Passers-by by Carl Sandburg came across my screen recently. 




Passers-by,
Out of your many faces
Flash memories to me
Now at the day end
Away from the sidewalks
Where your shoe soles traveled
And your voices rose and blent
To form the city’s afternoon roar
Hindering an old silence.

Passers-by,
I remember lean ones among you,
Throats in the clutch of a hope,
Lips written over with strivings,
Mouths that kiss only for love,
Records of great wishes slept with,
        Held long
And prayed and toiled for:

        Yes,
Written on
Your mouths
And your throats
I read them
When you passed by.



This strongly reminded me of Pound's In a Station of the Metro

The apparition of these faces in the crowd;
Petals on a wet, black bough.

Both have elements of imagism, but I was most struck by the shared feeling of looking out over many faces and being overwhelmed. There is a connection between the speaker and the strangers here. I'm sorry I don't have more to say about these beautiful works. 

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