Carl Sandburg’s “Trafficker” is a grim, quiet portrait of a woman selling herself on a night street corner. She hides in the shadows, waiting to move only when a policeman appears, and her smile is described as broken—a painted expression stretched over haggard bones and desperate eyes. All night she offers passersby whatever remains of her faded beauty and worn body, but the closing words, “And no takers,” make clear that no one accepts. The speaker watches without preaching, with a tone that feels weary and sympathetic rather than shocked. The mood is bleak, lonely, and hollow: a life has been spent, beauty has faded, and even the last thing she has to sell is not enough to bring money, relief, or human contact. It leaves a heavy, closed-in feeling, like a cold street with no one stopping.
Trafficker — Summary
Among the shadows where two streets cross, A woman lurks in the dark and waits To move on when a policeman heaves in view.
Smiling a broken smile from a face Painted over haggard bones and desperate eyes,
All night she offers passers-by what they will Of her beauty wasted, body faded, claims gone. And no takers.