Crimson
CRIMSON is the slow smolder of the cigar end I hold,
Gray is the ash that stiffens and covers all silent the fire.
(A great man I know is dead and while he lies in his
coffin a gone flame I sit here in cumbering shadows
and smoke and watch my thoughts come and go.
)
Poem by
Carl Sandburg
Biography |
Poems
| Best Poems | Short Poems
| Quotes
|
Email Poem |
More Poems by Carl Sandburg
Comments, Analysis, and Meaning on Crimson
Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem Crimson here.
Commenting turned off, sorry.