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Ode to Sara Teasdale
Oh Aphrodite,
the pearl moon washes ashore
blue-tinged and lustrous
silver slivers of light curve
around you in the darkness
I sit
on a park bench
as the Hudson River
spangles gold as blossoms tangle
my hair.
Overdose on pills:
the flowing river of stars
you can't live without;
dream to death in a warm bath
of water, your element.
(Sara Teasdale
committed suicide, January 29, 1933 at the age of 48. She had
been suffering from several illnesses,)
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