Winter Dusk

by Sara Teasdale

　　I watch the great clear twilight Veiling the ice-bowed trees; Their branches tinkle faintly With crystal melodies. The larches bend their silver Over the hush of snow; One star is lighted in the west, Two in the zenith glow. For a moment I have forgotten Wars and women who mourn, I think of the mother who bore me And thank her that I was born.