| Poems by Women |
Open Windows
Out of the window a sea of green trees
Lift
their soft boughs like the arms of a dancer;
They beckon and call me, "Come
out in the sun!"
But I cannot answer.
I am alone with Weakness and Pain,
Sick abed and June is going,
I
cannot keep her, she hurries by
With the silver-green of her garments
blowing.
Men and women pass in the street
Glad of the shining sapphire
weather,
But we know more of it than they,
Pain and I together.
They are the runners in the sun,
Breathless and blinded by the
race,
But we are watchers in the shade
Who speak with Wonder face to
face.
From: Rittenhouse, Jessie B.
The Second Book of Modern Verse (1919).
This poet:
[Author index]
This collection assembled by Jone Johnson Lewis.
Collection © 1999-2002 Jone Johnson Lewis.
Citing poems from these pages:
| Author. "Poem Title." Women's History: Poems by Women. Jone Johnson Lewis, editor. URL: (date of logon) |
