Sleep (Sandburg)
Sleep is a belonging of all; even if all songs are old songs and the
singing heart is snuffed out like a switchman’s lantern with the oil
gone, even if we forget our names and houses in the finish, the secret
of sleep is left us, sleep belongs to all, sleep is the first and last and
best of all.
Carl Sandburg, from "Work Gangs"
Labels: poetry