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Carl Sandburg - In a Breath
Work rating: Medium

To the Williamson Brothers


High noon. White sun flashes on the Michigan Avenue 
     asphalt. Drum of hoofs and whirr of motors. 
     Women traipsing along in flimsy clothes catching 
     play of sun-fire to their skin and eyes. 

Inside the playhouse are movies from under the sea. 
     From the heat of pavements and the dust of sidewalks, 
     passers-by go in a breath to be witnesses of 
     large cool sponges, large cool fishes, large cool valleys 
     and ridges of coral spread silent in the soak of 
     the ocean floor thousands of years. 

A naked swimmer dives. A knife in his right hand 
     shoots a streak at the throat of a shark. The tail 
     of the shark lashes. One swing would kill the swimmer. . . 
     Soon the knife goes into the soft under- 
     neck of the veering fish. . . Its mouthful of teeth, 
     each tooth a dagger itself, set row on row, glistens 
     when the shuddering, yawning cadaver is hauled up 
     by the brothers of the swimmer. 

Outside in the street is the murmur and singing of life 
     in the sun—horses, motors, women traipsing along 
     in flimsy clothes, play of sun-fire in their blood.
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