“She can’t be unhappy,” you said,
“The smiles are like stars in her eyes,
And her laugh is thistledown
Around her low replies.”
“Is she unhappy?” you said —
But who has ever known
Another’s heartbreak —
All he can know is his own;
And she seems hushed to me,
As hushed as though
Her heart were a hunter’s fire
Smothered in snow.
Snowfall, Sara Teasdale (August 8, 1884 – January 29, 1933)
Categories: Musings, Photography
4 comments On "A Bit of Fluff"
This is a really beautiful poem Dan and so sad.
Beautiful – both words and pictures!
OH! Loved that – thanks for posting ‘fluff’!