dear carl

a tribute to carl sandburg

Now I am here — now read me — give me a name. — Carl Sandburg

am i too late to drive up the mountain

to walk your woods

to see if words still echo there

and fall into thin air

do they fall at night

like the stars

reflect off your pond

or do they hang off ancestral trees

to pluck and keep at will

i feel the land is fertile soil

from the many words you left behind

i will take myself and gather what is left

what others never heard

i will sit in your chair and wait

for inspiration

to softly fall into my lap

i will capture it all

every single word

big and small

i will hold them dear

i hope you don’t mind

although

i think you understand my kind

i am a runaway star at heart

dear carl

am i too late

to travel the mountain

to your sacred place

***

photo@unsplash