Shirt, by Carl Sandburg


I remember once I ran after you and tagged the fluttering      shirt of you in the wind.Once many days ago I drank a glassful of something and      the picture of you shivered and slid on top of the stuff.And again it was nobody else but you I heard in the      singing voice of a careless humming woman.One night when I sat with chums telling stories at a      bonfire flickering red embers, in a language its own      talking to a spread of white stars:                          It was you that slunk laughing                          in the clumsy staggering shadows.Broken answers of remembrance let me know you are      alive with a peering phantom face behind a doorway      somewhere in the city’s push and fury.Or under a pack of moss and leaves waiting in silence      under a twist of oaken arms ready as ever to run      away again when I tag the fluttering shirt of you. - Carl Sandburg

Carl Sandburg