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.
Sara TeasdaleLet it be forgotten, as a flower is forgotten, Forgotten as a fire that once was singing gold, Let it be forgotten forever and ever, Time is a kind friend, he will make us old.
Sara TeasdaleI am the pool of gold When sunset burns and dies-- You are my deepening skies; Give me your stars to hold
Sara Teasdale