Oh to be free of myself,
With nothing left to remember,
To have my heart as bare
As a tree in December;
Resting, as a tree rests
After its leaves are gone,
Waiting no more for a rain at night
Nor for the red at dawn;
But still, oh so still
While the winds come and go,
With no more fear of the hard frost
Or the bright burden of snow;
And heedless, heedless
If anyone pass and see
On the white page of the sky
Its thin black tracery.
The Tree
Sara Teasdale
(1)
Poem topics: fear, heart, night, rain, red, remember, sky, snow, white, frost, bright, hard, december, black, dawn, tree, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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