summer night, riverside

by Sara Teasdale

In the wild soft summer darkness
How many and many a night we two together
Sat in the park and watched the Hudson
Wearing her lights like golden spangles
Glinting on black satin.
The rail along the curving pathway
Was low in a happy place to let us cross,
And down the hill a tree that dripped with bloom
Sheltered us,
While your kisses and the flowers,
Falling, falling,
Tangled in my hair....

The frail white stars moved slowly over the sky.

And now, far off
In the fragrant darkness
The tree is tremulous again with bloom
For June comes back.

To-night what girl
Dreamily before her mirror shakes from her hair
This year's blossoms, clinging to its coils?

This poem is like a gentle summer breeze, I love it so.

I'm slowly making progress with my manuscript although today was emotionally difficult
and I started getting teary while writing inside a coffee shop.

"Write hard and clear about what hurts," said Hemingway. I guess I'm on the right track.

1 comment:

  1. i love the line after the ellipsis, and the way it fits there. "frail" is such a striking (unusual) descriptor for the stars

    also: the hemingway quote. i need to return to that discipline.