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1884–1933

II

Sara Teasdale

I think the moon is very kind To take such trouble just for me. He came along with me from home To keep me company.

He went as fast as I could run; I wonder how he crossed the sky? I'm sure he has n't legs and feet Or any wings to fly.

Yet here he is above their roof; Perhaps he thinks it is n't right For me to go so far alone, Tho’ mother said I might.

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II · Sara Teasdale · Poetry Cove