Evening: New York Blue dust of evening over my city, Over the ocean of roofs and the tall towers Where the window-lights, myriads and myriads, Bloom… - Sara Teasdale

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.

If I am peaceful, I shall see Beauty's face continually; Feeding on her wine and bread I shall be wholly comforted, For she can make one day for me Rich as my lost eternity.

I try to catch at many a tune Like petals of light fallen from the moon, Broken and bright on a dark lagoon,<p>But they float away — for who can hold Youth, or perfume or the moon's gold?