Friday, December 18, 2009

"Only in Sleep"


Only in sleep I see their faces,
Children I played with when I was a child,
Louise comes back with her brown hair braided,
Annie with ringlets warm and wild.

Only in sleep Time is forgotten--
What may have come to them, who can know?
Yet we played last night as long ago,
And the doll-house stood at the turn of the stair.

The years had not sharpened their smooth round faces,
I met their eyes and found them mild--
Do they, too, dream of me, I wonder,
And for them am I too a child?


Sara Teasdale