Poem by Carl Sandburg

Autumn Movement

I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.

The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf 
       at the neck of the copper sunburned woman, 
       the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.

The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes, 
       new beautiful things 
       come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind, 
       and the old things go, 
       not one lasts.

1. Old-fashioned Requited Love
2. Subway
3. Baby Vamps
4. Kin
5. Hope Is a Tattered Flag

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