Wild Asters -- Sara Teasdale

(Poem #430) Wild Asters In the spring I asked the daisies If his words were true, And the clever, clear-eyed daisies Always knew. Now the fields are brown and barren, Bitter autumn blows, And of all the stupid asters Not one knows. -- Sara Teasdale

A delightful poem - it's amazing how well the tone comes across. The
sentiment and phrasing are mildly reminiscent of Dorothy Parker (though not
as hard-edged). There isn't a whole lot to be said about it, but note how
well Teasdale blends a strictly controlled metre with varying line lengths -
her poetry is always a pleasure to read, whether for the imagery, the sound
or the sheer elegance of the writing.

Links:

For a collection of Teasdale's poems, see
[broken link] http://www.emule.com/poetry/works.cgi?author=33

For a biography, see poem #113

-martin