On The Breakwater
On the breakwater in the summer dark, a man and a girl are sitting,
by Carl Sandburg
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 outgoing boat,
Playing its searchlight, puzzled, abrupt, over a streak of green,
And two on the breakwater keep their silence, she on his knee.