Letters to Bonaparte

“ The fog comes
on little cat feet.
It sits looking
over harbor and city
on silent haunches
and then moves on. ” -

Carl Sandburg, “Fog” (via chairofbullies) (via crashinglybeautiful)

I love this poem. I remember my mom reciting it to me when I was a kid. Of all the poems I’ve read and studied since, I can’t think of one I truly enjoy more, and that is saying a lot. Oh, what a little sentimentality can do to you.