Sunday night and the park policemen tell each other it <br />is dark as a stack of black cats on Lake Michigan. <br />A big picnic boat comes home to Chicago from the peach <br />farms of Saugatuck. <br />Hundreds of electric bulbs break the night's darkness, a <br />flock of red and yellow birds with wings at a standstill. <br />Running along the deck railings are festoons and leaping <br />in curves are loops of light from prow and stern <br />to the tall smokestacks. <br />Over the hoarse crunch of waves at my pier comes a <br />hoarse answer in the rhythmic oompa of the brasses <br />playing a Polish folk-song for the home-comers.<br /><br />Carl Sandburg<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/picnic-boat/
