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On A March Day

 Here in the teeth of this triumphant wind 
 That shakes the naked shadows on the ground, 
Making a key-board of the earth to strike 
 From clattering tree and hedge a separate sound, 

Bear witness for me that I loved my life, 
 All things that hurt me and all things that healed, 
And that I swore it this day in March, 
 Here at the edge of this new-broken field.
You only knew me, tell them I was glad For every hour since my hour of birth, And that I ceased to fear, as once I feared, The last complete reunion with the earth.

by Sara Teasdale
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