The Old Maid Poem by Sara Teasdale
The Old Maid
I saw her in a Broadway car,
The woman I might grow to be;
I felt my lover look at her
And then turn suddenly to me.
Her hair was dull and drew no light
And yet its color was as mine;
Her eyes were strangely like my eyes
Tho' love had never made them shine.
Her body was a thing grown thin,
Hungry for love that never came;
Her soul was frozen in the dark
Unwarmed forever by love's flame.
I felt my lover look at her
And then turn suddenly to me,--
His eyes were magic to defy
The woman I shall never be.
Her resolve to not age like the Broadway star is so greatly strengthened by the mutual love she shares with her lover. This is such a powerful poem about requited and unrequited love. Well deserved POD. Congratulations, Sara on receiving this honour!
Nicely expressed thoughts and feelings, an interesting piece of poetry
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 9:25:58 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Especially stanza 3 reminds me of my good friend on PH, Lora Colon, and her lovelorn poems (she is no longer active her, alas) . bri : )