Madaar

When she woke at dawn

Sara Teasdale last message.

There will come soft rains
And swallows circling
With their shimmering sound
And frogs in pools
Singing at night
And wild plum trees
In tremulous white
Robins will wear
Their feathery fire
Whistling
their whims
On a low fence-wire
And not one will know
Of the war

At last when it is done
And Spring herself
When she woke at dawn