Fog and drizzle and the Wrigley Building

FOG

The fog comes

on little cat feet.

It sits looking

over harbor and city

on silent haunches

and then moves on.

"Fog" is a poem by Carl Sandburg. It first appeared in Sandburg's first mainstream collection of poems, Chicago Poems, published in 1916.

Sandburg has described the genesis of the poem. At a time when he was carrying a book of Japanese Haiku, he went to interview a juvenile court judge, and he had cut through Grant Park and saw the fog over Chicago harbor. He had certainly seen many fogs before, but this time he had to wait forty minutes for the judge, and he only had a piece of newsprint handy, so he decided to create an "American Haiku”

... and ...

From my hotel window I painted and marveled at the fog and drizzle over the Chicago River and above the magnificent Wrigley building. 

The buildings of Chicago always thrill me...

Starting with the Wrigley building... a simple line drawing and then adding more to the scene below...

Carl Sandburg wrote this poem about the city...

CHICAGO

     HOG Butcher for the World,

     Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat,

     Player with Railroads and the Nation's Freight Handler;

     Stormy, husky, brawling,

     City of the Big Shoulders:

They tell me you are wicked and I believe them, for I

     have seen your painted women under the gas lamps

     luring the farm boys.

And they tell me you are crooked and I answer: Yes, it

     is true I have seen the gunman kill and go free to

     kill again.

And they tell me you are brutal and my reply is: On the

     faces of women and children I have seen the marks

     of wanton hunger.

And having answered so I turn once more to those who

     sneer at this my city, and I give them back the sneer

     and say to them:

Come and show me another city with lifted head singing

     so proud to be alive and coarse and strong and cunning.

Flinging magnetic curses amid the toil of piling job on

     job, here is a tall bold slugger set vivid against the

     little soft cities;

Fierce as a dog with tongue lapping for action, cunning

     as a savage pitted against the wilderness,

          Bareheaded,

          Shoveling,

          Wrecking,

          Planning,

          Building, breaking, rebuilding,

Under the smoke, dust all over his mouth, laughing with

     white teeth,

Under the terrible burden of destiny laughing as a young

     man laughs,

Laughing even as an ignorant fighter laughs who has

     never lost a battle,

Bragging and laughing that under his wrist is the pulse.

     and under his ribs the heart of the people,

               Laughing!

Laughing the stormy, husky, brawling laughter of

     Youth, half-naked, sweating, proud to be Hog

     Butcher, Tool Maker, Stacker of Wheat, Player with

     Railroads and Freight Handler to the Nation.