On The Breakwater by Carl Sandburg
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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