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About this Poem 

“Passers-By” was published in Sandburg’s book Chicago Poems (H. Hold and Company, 1916).

Passers-by

Passers-by,
Out of your many faces
Flash memories to me
Now at the day end
Away from the sidewalks
Where your shoe soles traveled
And your voices rose and blent
To form the city’s afternoon roar
Hindering an old silence.

Passers-by,
I remember lean ones among you,
Throats in the clutch of a hope,
Lips written over with strivings,
Mouths that kiss only for love,
Records of great wishes slept with,
      Held long
And prayed and toiled for:

      Yes,
Written on
Your mouths
And your throats
I read them
When you passed by.

This poem is in the public domain.

This poem is in the public domain.

Carl Sandburg

Carl Sandburg

Carl Sandburg was awarded three Pulitzer Prizes in his lifetime—the first in 1919 for his poetry collection Corn Huskers, the second in 1940 for his biography Abraham Lincoln: The War Years, and the third in 1951 for Complete Poems.

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Fog
The fog comes
on little cat feet.

It sits looking 
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on.
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How much do you love me, a million bushels?  
Oh, a lot more than that, Oh, a lot more.  
   
And to-morrow maybe only half a bushel?  
To-morrow maybe not even a half a bushel.  
   
And is this your heart arithmetic? 
This is the way the wind measures the weather.
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Shine on, O moon of summer.  
Shine to the leaves of grass, catalpa and oak,  
All silver under your rain to-night.  
  
An Italian boy is sending songs to you to-night from an accordion.  
A Polish boy is out with his best girl; they marry next month;
     to-night they are throwing you kisses.
  
An old man