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Sara Teasdale

(8 August 1884 – 29 January 1933 / Missouri)

Open Windows


Out of the window a sea of green trees
Lift their soft boughs like the arms of a dancer,
They beckon and call me, "Come out in the sun!"
But I cannot answer.

I am alone with Weakness and Pain,
Sick abed and June is going,
I cannot keep her, she hurries by
With the silver-green of her garments blowing.

Men and women pass in the street
Glad of the shining sapphire weather,
But we know more of it than they,
Pain and I together.

They are the runners in the sun,
Breathless and blinded by the race,
But we are watchers in the shade
Who speak with Wonder face to face.

Submitted: Tuesday, December 31, 2002

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Read poems about / on: june, weather, sick, green, women, pain, silver, together, sun, sea, alone, woman, tree

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