Open Windows

By Sara Teasdale

1884-1933


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.

DayPoems Poem No. 1389
<a href="http://www.daypoems.net/poems/1389.html">Open Windows by Sara Teasdale</a>

The DayPoems Poetry Collection, www.daypoems.net
Timothy Bovee, editor

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