Words from Carl Sandburg

I'm always in awe about how young children make connections that translate into learning. For that reason, I like this poem from Carl Sandburg's Fogs and Fires:


CHILD MOON

The child's wonder
At the old moon
Comes back nightly.
She points her finger
To the far silent yellow thing
Shining through the branches
Filtering on the leaves a golden sand,
Crying with her little tongue,
"See the moon!"
And in her bed fading to sleep
With babblings of the moon on her little mouth.