403
 
The Winters are so short—
I’m hardly justified
In sending all the Birds away—
And moving into Pod—
 
Myself—for scarcely settled—
The Phoebes have begun—
And then—it’s time to strike my Tent—
And open House—again—
 
It’s mostly, interruptions—
My Summer—is despoiled—
Because there was a Winter—once—
And al the Cattle—starved—
 
And so there was a Deluge—
And swept the World away—
But Ararat’s a Legend—now—
And no one credits Noah—

  • 0
  • 0
  •  
  •  
Entrar para comentar...
Email

Otras obras de Emily Dickinson...

Algunos poetas que siguen a Emily Dickinson...

Arianna Buchholz Daniel Sierra Death Queen Shemené Kok Milly Antcord Lexi Lou