Carl Sandberg

North Carolina

June 2015

Halfway from Charlotte to our destination in the Great Smoky Mountains, we pass the village of Flat Rock.  Carl Sandberg lived here, as fine a writer and poet as ever wrote and poeted.  Here is Happiness

I asked professors who teach the meaning of life to tell me what is happiness.

And I went to famous executives who boss the work of thousands of men.

They all shook their heads and gave me a smile as though I was trying to fool with them.

And then one Sunday afternoon I wandered out along the Desplaines River

And I saw a crowd of Hungarians under the trees with their women and children and a keg of beer and an accordion.

— Carl Sandburg

My brother, who lived in San Francisco, had a grey cat.  The cat’s name was Fog.

The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.

— Carl Sandburg

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