Monday, December 7, 2009
I am free of love as a bird flying south in the autumn,
Swift and intent, asking no joy from another,
Glad to forget all of the passion of April
Ere it was love-free.
I am free of love, and I listen to music lightly,
But if he returned, if he should look at me deeply,
I should awake, I should awake and remember
I am my lover’s.
I really Enjoyed reading this poem i hope you do too and i would love to hear your comments about it.
This is by Sara Teasdale
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