Gateway to the Classics: Display Item
Sara Teasdale

Night in Arizona

The moon is a charring ember

Dying into the dark;

Off in the crouching mountains

Coyotes bark.


The stars are heavy in heaven,

Too great for the sky to hold—

What if they fell and shattered

The earth with gold?


No lights are over the mesa,

The wind is hard and wild,

I stand at the darkened window

And cry like a child.