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User Rating:
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5.6
/10
(21 votes)
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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.
Sara Teasdale
| Submitted Date |
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Saturday, January 04, 2003 |
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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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