Carl Sandburg

On the Breakwater

ON the breakwater in the summer dark, a man and a
    girl are sitting,
She across his knee and they are looking face into face
Talking to each other without words, singing rythms in
    silence to each other.
 
A funnel of white ranges the blue dusk from an out–
    going boat,
Playing its searchlight, puzzled, abrupt, over a streak of
    green,
And two on the breakwater keep their silence, she on his
    knee.
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