“The Falling Star”
by Sara Teasdale
I saw a star slide down the sky,
Blinding the north as it went by,
Too burning and too quick to hold,
Too lovely to be bought or sold,
Good only to make wishes on
And then forever to be gone.
I haven’t seen a shooting star in a long time, but last night when I let the dog out I looked up at just the right moment. After a long, busy day, the blaze of that meteor was a gift; a reminder to take a deep breath and enjoy the beauty of the night sky. Teasdale describes the sight perfectly in “The Falling Star,” a poem I discovered years ago in Nancy Larrick’s anthology, Piping Down the Valleys Wild.
Laura Purdie Salas is hosting the Poetry Friday Round Up on her blog today. Be sure to stop by to find out about her wonderful new project, 30 Painless Classroom Poems: What’s Inside? Poems to Explore the Park.