AT A WINDOW (6.11.07)

At a Window
      
Give me hunger,
O you gods that sit and give
The world its orders.
Give me hunger, pain and want,
Shut me out with shame and failure
From your doors of gold and fame,
Give me your shabbiest, weariest hunger!

But leave me a little love,
A voice to speak to me in the day end,
A hand to touch me in the dark room
Breaking the long loneliness.
In the dusk of day-shapes
Blurring the sunset,
One little wandering, western star
Thrust out from the changing shores of shadow.
Let me go to the window,
Watch there the day-shapes of dusk
And wait and know the coming
Of a little love.

—Carl Sandburg (Factoid:  While Carl was in college, where he studied the classics and a professor encouraged him to begin writing poetry, he worked as a janitor at the fire department.)

On a sidenote, this will be the last week for the PotD. I committed to doing it for a year and 365 days have come and gone. I hope you've enjoyed it and learned as much as I have, and I thank you all for taking this ride with me.  I am currently debating whether to continue in a different format, the PotW(eekly) perhaps, but I have yet to decide where to take it from here. Stayed tuned and keep paying attention to the world as it rolls by you.

All the best,
Scott




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