| Carl Sandburg (1878–1967). Cornhuskers. 1918. |
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| 4. Early Moon |
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| THE BABY moon, a canoe, a silver papoose canoe, sails and sails in the Indian west. | |
| A ring of silver foxes, a mist of silver foxes, sit and sit around the Indian moon. | |
| One yellow star for a runner, and rows of blue stars for more runners, keep a line of watchers. | |
| O foxes, baby moon, runners, you are the panel of memory, fire-white writing to-night of the Red Man’s dreams. | |
| Who squats, legs crossed and arms folded, matching its look against the moon-face, the star-faces, of the West? | 5 |
| Who are the Mississippi Valley ghosts, of copper foreheads, riding wiry ponies in the night?—no bridles, love-arms on the pony necks, riding in the night a long old trail? | |
| Why do they always come back when the silver foxes sit around the early moon, a silver papoose, in the Indian west? | |
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