Friday, September 9, 2011

A Day
I'll tell you how the sun rose,
A ribbon at a time
The steeples swam in amethyst,
The news like squirrels ran.
The hills untied their bonnets,
The bobolinks begun.
Then I said softly to myself,
"That must have been the sun!"
But how he set, I know not.
There seemed a purple stile
Which little yellow boys and girls
Were climbing all the while
Till when they reached the other side,
A dominie in gray
Put gently up the evening bars,
And led the flock away.
Emily Dickinsen


  1. Poor gifted and so sad.
    Her sadness in a weird way made me happy when I was in high school. And she still does. Melancholy girl.