English poetry

Poems in English

Dusty Doors

Dusty Doors

CHILD of the Aztec gods,
How long must we listen here,
How long before we go?

The dust is deep on the lintels.
The dust is dark on the doors.
If the dreams shake our bones,
what can we say or do?

Since early morning we waited.
Since early, early morning, child.
There must be dreams on the way now.
There must be a song for our bones.

The dust gets deeper and darker.
Do the doors and lintels shudder?
How long must we listen here?
How long before we go?



Poem Dusty Doors - Carl Sandburg