boxes on beach are
empty shake ’em nails loosen
they have been somewhere
Adapted from the poem Sand Scribblings by Carl Sandburg in Smoke and Steel as published in The Complete Poems of Carl Sandburg, by Carl Sandburg, Harcourt, Brace, New York, 1950.
The wind stops, the wind begins.
The wind says stop, begin.
A sea shovel scrapes the sand floor.
The shovel changes, the floor changes.
The sandpipers, maybe they know.
Maybe a three-pointed foot can tell.
Maybe the fog moon they fly to, guesses.
The sandpipers cheep ‘Here’ and get away.
Five of them fly and keep together flying.
Night hair of some sea woman
Curls on the sand when the sea leaves
The salt tide without a good-by.
Boxes on the beach are empty.
Shake ’em and the nails loosen.
They have been somewhere.
This is special to me today as I know the boxes on the beach are empty.
They are empty because we emptied them.
We know they have been somewhere, because we filled them and moved them to the island … were we now live.
Got to go ride my bike to the NEARBY beach and scribble in the sand.
No Haiku For You 