Wood Song

I heard a wood thrush in the dusk
Twirl three notes and make a star-
My heart that walked with bitterness
Came back from very far.

Three shining notes were all he had,
And yet they made a starry call-
I caught life back against my breast
And kissed it, scars and all.

Sara Teasdale The copyright of the poems published here are belong to their poets. Internetpoem.com is a non-profit poetry portal. All information in here has been published only for educational and informational purposes.