Poems ✍️
  30.09.2025
  6

Author: Carl Sandburg

Handfuls

BLOSSOMS of babies
Blinking their stories
Come soft
On the dusk and the babble;
Little red gamblers,
Handfuls that slept in the dust.
Summers of rain,
Winters of drift,
Tell off the years;
And they go back
Who came softBack to the sod,
To silence and dust;
Gray gamblers,
Handfuls again.


  Babies life Death Time

Share on social networks:
Facebook | VK | WhatsApp | Telegram | Twitter

Take a look 👇

  Happiness ᐈ
  Humdrum ᐈ
  Hydrangeas ᐈ
  In A Back Alley ᐈ
  In A Breath ᐈ

Write a review