These from Rainbows are Made, by Carl Sandburg, a beautiful volume, illustrated by Fritz Eichenberg:
Poetry is a series of explanations of life, fading off into horizons too swift for explanations.
Poetry is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and the unknowable.
Poetry is a shuffling of boxes of illusions buckled with a strap of facts.
Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.
Poetry is a section of river-fog and moving boat-lights, delivered between bridges and whistles, so one says, "Oh!" and another, "How?"
Poetry is a sequence of dots and dashes, spelling depths, crypts, cross-lights, and moon wisps.
Poetry is a series of explanations of life, fading off into horizons too swift for explanations.
Poetry is a search for syllables to shoot at the barriers of the unknown and the unknowable.
Poetry is a shuffling of boxes of illusions buckled with a strap of facts.
Poetry is a phantom script telling how rainbows are made and why they go away.
Poetry is a section of river-fog and moving boat-lights, delivered between bridges and whistles, so one says, "Oh!" and another, "How?"
Poetry is a sequence of dots and dashes, spelling depths, crypts, cross-lights, and moon wisps.
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