Sara Teasdale — Winter Dusk

I watch the great clear twilight        &nbsp Veiling the ice-bowed trees; Their branches tinkle faintly        &nbsp With crystal melodies. The larches bend their silver        &nbsp Over the hush of snow; One star is lighted in the west,        &nbsp Two in the zenith glow. For a moment I have forgotten        &nbsp Wars and women who mourn— I think of the mother who bore me        &nbsp And thank her that I was born.