Poem Hunter
Young Sea
(6 January 1878 – 22 July 1967 / Illinois)

Young Sea

Poem By Carl Sandburg

The sea is never still.
It pounds on the shore
Restless as a young heart,

The sea speaks
And only the stormy hearts
Know what it says:
It is the face
of a rough mother speaking.

The sea is young.
One storm cleans all the hoar
And loosens the age of it.
I hear it laughing, reckless.

They love the sea,
Men who ride on it
And know they will die
Under the salt of it

Let only the young come,
Says the sea.

Let them kiss my face
And hear me.
I am the last word
And I tell
Where storms and stars come from.

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Comments (2)

This poem sucks! I wish it Carl had died at a younger age so he didn't waste his time making these poems
This poem sucks dick!