Poor old Abner, poor old white-haired nigger! I remember when you were so strong you hung yourself by a rope round the neck in Doc Hollister's barn to prove you could beat the faker in the circus -- and it didn't kill you. Now your face is in your hands, and your elbows are on your knees, and you are silent and broken. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ASHURNATSIRPAL III by CARL SANDBURG SANDHILL PEOPLE by CARL SANDBURG SONGS FOR MY MOTHER: 2. HER HANDS by ANNA HEMPSTEAD BRANCH WITCHCRAFT BY A PICTURE by JOHN DONNE ON MAN by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR CAPTAIN CARPENTER by JOHN CROWE RANSOM IN MEMORIAM A.H.H.: 51 by ALFRED TENNYSON |