Today is Poem in Your Pocket day and I'm sharing a poem by Sara Teasdale.
I somehow discovered Sara Teasdale in high school and fell in love with her poetry--she was kind of a midwestern, accessible Emily Dickinson. She was a native St. Louisan (as was I) but moved to New York in her early 30s. She won a Pulitzer Prize in 1918.
I was so enchanted with her that I wrote a screenplay about her life story for a class in college. It must have been the dullest treatment ever because even though she was an amazing poet she lived a very quiet life--she basically wrote poems, was in love with someone unattainable, married a dull man, and committed suicide before her 50th birthday. Cheery, no? That might have suggested to me that Poet as Career was a non-starter.
So here's my poem for PIYPD:
THE LOOK by Sara Teasdale
Strephon kissed me in the spring,
Robin in the fall,
But Colin only looked at me
And never kissed at all.
Strephon's kiss was lost in jest,
Robin's lost in play,
But the kiss in Colin's eyesHaunts me night and day.