Sara Teasdale

(August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933 / Missouri / United States)

February - Poem by Sara Teasdale

They spoke of him I love
With cruel words and gay;
My lips kept silent guard
On all I could not say.

I heard, and down the street
The lonely trees in the square
Stood in the winter wind
Patient and bare.

I heard . . . oh voiceless trees
Under the wind, I knew
The eager terrible spring
Hidden in you.


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Read poems about / on: lonely, winter, wind, spring, love, tree



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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