The Walking Man of Rodin

Carl Sandburg

1878 to 1967

Poem Image

Legs hold a torso away from the earth 
And a regular high poem of legs is here 
Powers of bone and cord raise a belly and lungs 
Out of ooze and over the loam where eves look and ears hear 
And arms have a chance to hammer and shoot and run motors 
You make us 
Proud of our legs, old man 

And you left off the head here. 
The skull found always crumbling neighbor of the ankles