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Just Before April Came

by Carl Sandburg, 1920

The snow piles in dark places are gone.
 Pools by the railroad tracks shine clear.
 The gravel of all shallow places shines.
 A white pigeon reels and somersaults.

 Frogs plutter and squdge—and frogs beat the air with a recurring thin steel sliver of melody.
 Crows go in fives and tens; they march their black feathers past a blue pool; they celebrate an old festival.
 A spider is trying his webs, a pink bug sits on my hand washing his forelegs.
 I might ask: Who are these people?

Published in Smoke and Steel

Any corrections or public domain poems I should have here? Email me at poems (at) this domain.