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Sara Teasdale - The Lighted Window
Work rating: Low

He said:

"In the winter dusk 
When the pavements were gleaming with rain, 
I walked thru a dingy street 
Hurried, harassed, 
Thinking of all my problems that never are solved. 
Suddenly out of the mist, a flaring gas-jet 
Shone from a huddled shop. 
I saw thru the bleary window 
A mass of playthings: 
False-faces hung on strings, 
Valentines, paper and tinsel, 
Tops of scarlet and green, 
Candy, marbles, jacks— 
A confusion of color 
Pathetically gaudy and cheap. 
All of my boyhood 
Rushed back. 
Once more these things were treasures 
Wildly desired. 
With covetous eyes I looked again at the marbles, 
The precious agates, the pee-wees, the chinies— 
Then I passed on.

In the winter dusk, 
The pavements were gleaming with rain; 
There in the lighted window 
I left my boyhood."
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