Swans

Night is over the park, and a few brave stars
Look on the lights that link it with chains of gold,
The lake bears up their reflection in broken bars
That seem too heavy for tremulous water to hold.

We watch the swans that sleep in a shadowy place,
And now and again one wakes and uplifts its head;
How still you are--your gaze is on my face--
We watch the swans and never a word is said.

by Sara Teasdale

Comments (3)

Fantastic Poem, so real, so heartfelt. I felt your pain.
Mary, thanks for responding to my poem written about Danny's run-away from home in 1972. True, it reminded you of your parentsby was of some incidental coincidents, but you looked deeper to empathize with the effect on me and my family. For me, by the dnd of two weeks in June 1772, the thoughts and feelings just overflowed and had to be expressed. Now, some 37 years later it provides me, in a different venue, with an opportunity to touch base with you in some small way in my search for you , Mary Nagy.
Frank, this poem touched me for a few different reasons.........First off- my dads name was Danny. He passed away in 1994 (he was 47) . Second, the date you say in the first stanza is my mothers birthday.......she and I are not close but this poem just called out to me with such connections. Aside from that, it was a very heartfelt poem and left me feeling a little sad. Very nice job. Sincerely, Mary