Black Horizons
Carl Sandburg, 1878 - 1967
Black horizons, come up.
Black horizons, kiss me.
That is all; so many lies; killing so cheap;
babies so cheap; blood, people so cheap; and
land high, land dear; a speck of the earth
costs; a suck at the tit of Mother Dirt so
clean and strong, it costs; fences, papers,
sheriffs; fences, laws, guns; and so many
stars and so few hours to dream; such a big
song and so little a footing to stand and
sing; take a look; wars to come; red rivers
to cross.
Black horizons, come up.
Black horizons, kiss me.
Published in 1924. As I read this I thought, ‘ My God, my
God, a poem 90 years old and still speaks to this very day, this immediate
minute.’ We are such a poor, wretched race that can never find a way to
stop shedding these rivers of blood.
