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by Carl Sandburg, 1918

Leaves of poplars pick Japanese prints against the west.
 Moon sand on the canal doubles the changing pictures.
       The moon’s good-by ends pictures.
 The west is empty. All else is empty. No moon-talk at all now.
       Only dark listening to dark.

Published in Cornhuskers

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