The Lighted Window
by Sara Teasdale
He said: "In the winter dusk When the pavements were gleaming with rain, I walked thru a dingy street Hurried, harassed, Thinking of all my problems that never are solved. Suddenly out of the mist, a flaring gas-jet Shone from a huddled shop. I saw thru the bleary window A mass of playthings: False-faces hung on strings, Valentines, paper and tinsel, Tops of scarlet and green, Candy, marbles, jacks A confusion of color Pathetically gaudy and cheap. All of my boyhood Rushed back. Once more these things were treasures Wildly desired. With covetous eyes I looked again at the marbles, The precious agates, the pee-wees, the chinies Then I passed on. In the winter dusk, The pavements were gleaming with rain; There in the lighted window I left my boyhood."
0
Create a library and add your favorite stories. Get started by clicking the "Add" button.
Add The Lighted Window to your own personal library.
Add The Lighted Window to your own personal library.
Return to the Sara Teasdale Home Page, or . . . Read the next poem; The Lights Of New York
