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The classic poem for this issue of The Fairfield Review was written by Carl Sandburg (1878 - 1967). Who can forget the awe and rising fullness felt when spying a harvest moon fresh from the horizon? --egh
By Carl Sandburg
The child's wonder
At the old moon
Comes back nightly.
She points her finger
To the far silent yellow thing
Shining through the branches
Filtering on the leaves a golden sand,
Crying with her little tongue, "See the moon!"
And in her bed fading to sleep
With babblings of the moon on her little mouth.
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Document last modified on: 09/24/2005