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At Night by Sara Teasdale

At Night
Sara Teasdale

We are apart; the city grows quiet between us,
She hushes herself, for midnight makes heavy her eyes,
The tangle of traffic is ended, the cars are empty,
Five streets divide us, and on them the moonlight lies.

Oh are you asleep, or lying awake, my lover?
Open your dreams to my love and your heart to my words.
I send you my thoughts–the air between us is laden,
My thoughts fly in at your window, a flock of wild birds.

MARGINALIA

Ah, this day is finally over. I crawl to my bed, exhausted. But I dream of you still. I dream of you still.

ABOUT SARA TEASDALE

Sara Trevor Teasdale was born on August 8, 1884, in St. Louis, into an old, established, and devout family. She was home-schooled until she was nine and traveled frequently to Chicago, where she became part of the circle surrounding Poetry magazine and Harriet Monroe. Teasdale published Sonnets to Duse, and Other Poems (The Poet Lore Company), her first volume of verse, in 1907. Her second collection, Helen of Troy, and Other Poems (G. P. Putnam’s Sons), followed in 1911, and… (more)

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