Other Men


When I talk with other men
I always think of you
Your words are keener than their words,
And they are gentler, too.

When I look at other men,
I wish your face were there,
With its gray eyes and dark skin
And tossed black hair.

When I think of other men,
Dreaming alone by day,
The thought of you like a strong wind
Blows the dreams away.


facebook share button twitter share button reddit share button share on pinterest pinterest

Add Other Men to your library.

Return to the Sara Teasdale library , or . . . Read the next poem; Over The Roofs

© 2022 AmericanLiterature.com