Sara Teasdale

Sara Teasdale (1884-1933) was a native St. Louisan who would have answered the infamous St. Louis question ("Where did you go to {high}school?") with "MICDS".   Sara won the first Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1918 and her success has been immortalized with a star on St. Louis's Walk of Fame.


As is the case with so many authors and poets, Sara was not a healthy child and spent many hours alone...an estate which seems to lend itself to a melancholy disposition, to an intensification of thought and emotion, and a propensity to produce exceptional prose and poetry.  You can learn more about Sara's  life and publications here: one of my favorite poetry sites.  


This is the first of several of her poems that I intend to share:

I Shall Not Care

by Sara Teasdale

When I am dead and over me bright April

Shakes out her rain-drenched hair,

Tho' you should lean above me broken-hearted,

I shall not care. 

I shall have peace, as leafy trees are peaceful

When rain bends down the bough,

And I shall be more silent and cold-hearted

Than you are now.