Evening: New York

Sara Teasdale

Blue dust of evening over my city,
Over the ocean of roofs and the tall towers
Where the window-lights, myriads and myriads,
Bloom from the walls like climbing flowers.

Next 10 Poems

• Sara Teasdale : Faces
• Sara Teasdale : Fault
• Sara Teasdale : Faults
• Sara Teasdale : Fear
• Sara Teasdale : February
• Sara Teasdale : Florence
• Sara Teasdale : For The Anniversary Of John Keats' Death
• Sara Teasdale : Four Winds
• Sara Teasdale : From The North
• Sara Teasdale : From The Sea

Previous 10 Poems

• Sara Teasdale : Erinna
• Sara Teasdale : Epitaph
• Sara Teasdale : Enough
• Sara Teasdale : Embers
• Sara Teasdale : Eight O'clock
• Sara Teasdale : Ebb Tide
• Sara Teasdale : Dust
• Sara Teasdale : Dusk In War Time
• Sara Teasdale : Dusk In June
• Sara Teasdale : Driftwood