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Stephen Crane

Once, I knew a fine song, on

Published in Poem Of The Day

-It is true, believe me,-
It was all of birds,
And I held them in a basket;
When I opened the wicket,
Heavens! They all flew away.
I cried, "Come back, little thoughts!"
But they only laughed.
They flew on
Until they were as sand
Thrown between me and the sky.


About this poem

About Stephen Crane
Stephen Crane was born in Newark, N.J., in 1871. A prolific writer of poetry and fiction, his books include "The Black Riders and Other Lines" (1895) and "War is Kind" (1899). He died in June of 1900.

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The Academy of American Poets is a nonprofit, mission-driven organization, whose aim is to make poetry available to a wider audience. Email The Academy at poem-a-day[at]poets.org.


This poem is in the public domain. Distributed by King Features Syndicate





 

 

 

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