Central Park At Dusk

A poem by Sara Teasdale

Buildings above the leafless trees
Loom high as castles in a dream,

While one by one the lamps come out
To thread the twilight with a gleam.

There is no sign of leaf or bud,
A hush is over everything.

Silent as women wait for love,
The world is waiting for the spring.

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'Central Park At Dusk' by Sara Teasdale

comments powered by Disqus