Sara Teasdale

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

Leaves - Poem by Sara Teasdale

One by one, like leaves from a tree
All my faiths have forsaken me;
But the stars above my head
Burn in white and delicate red,
And beneath my feet the earth
Brings the sturdy grass to birth.
I who was content to be
But a silken-singing tree,
But a rustle of delight
In the wistful heart of night--
I have lost the leaves that knew
Touch of rain and weight of dew.
Blinded by a leafy crown
I looked neither up nor down--
But the little leaves that die
Have left me room to see the sky;
Now for the first time I know
Stars above and earth below.


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Read poems about / on: tree, birth, rain, red, lost, sky, night, time, heart, star



Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003



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