Saint Julian Press, Inc.
  • Home
  • Dreaming My Animal Selves
  • Tiferet Talk Interviews
  • When Angels Are Born
  • Guest Authors I
    • Audrey Griffin>
      • Ode to the Dimmest Star
      • Ten
      • Lo
      • The Maze
    • Anne Tammel
    • Cindy Rinne>
      • Song
      • Airborne
      • Heaven Laughed
      • Contemplation of the Sea
      • Germinate
      • Intonation
    • Fred LaMotte>
      • Morning Meditation
      • DON’T BE SATISFIED TOO SOON
      • Silence
      • Wanderers Welcome
      • ANAHATTA
      • What Both Names Mean
    • Gayle J. Greenlea and Peter Shefler>
      • Gayle J. Greenlea - Wonderland
      • Gayle J. Greenlea - Chiaroscuro: Ode to Three Artists
    • Maria Elena B. Mahler>
      • Forever Ticket
      • A Voided Day
      • When the Nightingale no Longer Thrills our Veins
    • Susan Rogers>
      • The Origin is One
      • Kuan Yin
      • Awakening
    • George Jisho Robertson - Poetry>
      • passing moments [deceptive cadences]
      • veils of Persephone definitions of Demeter mysteries of Orpheus
      • Who Goes There
      • 3 Poems
    • Stephen Linsteadt>
      • Hoping Sartre Was Wrong
      • The Secret Language of Irises
      • Stinson Beach
      • Fisher of the Nile
    • Erica Lehrer>
      • Alchemy At Eight O'Clock
      • The Rio Frio
      • 1558.4
    • Taoli-Ambika Talwar & Ron Starbuck>
      • Voices I
      • Voices II
      • Voices III
      • Voices IV
      • Voices V
      • Voices VI
      • Voices VII
      • Voices VIII
    • Taoli-Ambika Talwar
    • Lois P. Jones and Peter Shefler
    • MaryAnn Fry>
      • The Space Between Notes
    • Garry Gilfoy>
      • The Watcher's Intervention - Keely's Story
  • Guest Authors II
    • Paula Dawn Lietz>
      • Fields of Yellow Fields of Gold
      • Mesmerized
      • Pixies and Petals
      • Spent Energy
      • Surrender
      • No Restrictions
      • The Saunter
      • The Surge
      • The Walk That Spoke
      • Your Existence
      • Your Name
    • Hélène Cardona and John FitzGerald >
      • Twenty-five and Breeze Rider
    • Peter Shefler>
      • The Japanese Red Maple I - The Seed
      • The Japanese Red Maple - Fallen In The Frost
      • The Japanese Red Maple III - Seeking Shelter
    • William Miller>
      • Maha ‘ulepu Arch
      • Made In China
      • Reading Cheese
    • Anna Yin - Poetry>
      • Our Feelings Are Like a House
      • Present Is Beyond
      • The Night Garden
      • The Robin
      • Falling into Pieces
      • Window and Mirror
    • Adele Kenny - Poetry
    • Melissa Studdard - Poetry
    • Ron Starbuck - Poetry>
      • Rumi
      • A Mockingbird's Song
      • There Are Times
      • Sandburg & Monroe (The Visit 1961)
      • Whenever You Watch Me
      • The Monarch
      • Austin David Meek
      • Park Avenue
      • Storm Shadow
      • Śūnyatā - Emptiness is Form; Form is Emptiness
      • there is something about being an episcopalian
    • T.S. Eliot - Burnt Norton - The Four Quartets
    • W.S. Merwin - Yesterday
    • W.B. Yeats - Recordings
    • Luke Storms
    • Tracy Cochran
    • Paul F. Knitter - Short Essay
    • Laurence Freeman - Meditation
    • Scott Painter - Homily
    • Carl Sandburg - Poetry>
      • Four Preludes on Playthings of the Wind
    • Langston Hughes - Poetry for Black History Month
  • Interconnections
  • Writers and Books
  • Language of Poetry
  • Submissions
  • Literary Magazine
  • Our Directors
    • Gena Davis
    • Ken Jones
    • Ron Starbuck

Guest Author

Carl Sandburg - Author and Poet


Four Preludes on Playthings of the Wind

 

by Carl Sandburg

 

 

The past is a bucket of ashes.

 

1

 

The woman named Tomorrow 

sits with a hairpin in her teeth 

and takes her time 

and does her hair the way she wants it 

and fastens at last the last braid and coil

and puts the hairpin where it belongs 

and turns and drawls: Well, what of it? 

My grandmother, Yesterday, is gone. 

What of it? Let the dead be dead. 

 

2

 

The doors were cedar

and the panels strips of gold 

and the girls were golden girls 

and the panels read and the girls chanted: 

 We are the greatest city, 

 the greatest nation:

 nothing like us ever was. 

  

The doors are twisted on broken hinges. 

Sheets of rain swish through on the wind 

 where the golden girls ran and the panels read: 

 We are the greatest city,

 the greatest nation, 

 nothing like us ever was. 

  

 

3

 

It has happened before. 

Strong men put up a city and got 

 a nation together,

And paid singers to sing and women 

 to warble: We are the greatest city, 

 the greatest nation, 

 nothing like us ever was. 

  

And while the singers sang

and the strong men listened 

and paid the singers well 

and felt good about it all, 

 there were rats and lizards who listened 

… and the only listeners left now

  … are … the rats … and the lizards. 

  

And there are black crows 

crying, "Caw, caw," 

bringing mud and sticks 

building a nest

over the words carved 

on the doors where the panels were cedar 

and the strips on the panels were gold 

and the golden girls came singing: 

 We are the greatest city,

 the greatest nation: 

 nothing like us ever was. 

  

The only singers now are crows crying, "Caw, caw,"  

And the sheets of rain whine in the wind and doorways. 

And the only listeners now are … the rats … and the lizards.

  

 

4

 

The feet of the rats 

scribble on the door sills; 

the hieroglyphs of the rat footprints 

chatter the pedigrees of the rats 

and babble of the blood

and gabble of the breed 

of the grandfathers and the great-grandfathers 

of the rats. 

  

And the wind shifts 

and the dust on a door sill shifts

and even the writing of the rat footprints 

tells us nothing, nothing at all 

about the greatest city, the greatest nation 

where the strong men listened 

and the women warbled: Nothing like us ever was.

 

 

 

 



Carl Sandburg is another author and poet that needs no introduction to American writers. The theme of this particular poem is evident, especially when placed in an early twenty-first century context where so many people are struggling financially and feel that the social institutions they once trusted have failed them.  Carl Sandburg was a poet of the people, for the people, always.  He was a man with great insights into the human spirit and struggle, and this poem in particular points to the depth of his insight.

To learn more about him, and to even hear him speak and read some of his own work please go to this Poetry Foundation site page.  

Web Hosting by IPOWER