Stuff of the moons
Runs on the lapping sand
Out to the longest shadow.
Under the curving willows,
And round the creep of the wave line,
Fluxions of yellow and dusk on the waters
Make a wide dreaming pansy of an old pond in the night.

- "Nocturne in a Deserted Brickyard", Carl Sandburg
from Chicago Poems (1916).