Sunday, April 10, 2016

National Poetry Month: Poem #7

  “Hope” is the thing with feathers - (314)

By Emily Dickinson

 

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -


And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -

And sore must be the storm -

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm -


I’ve heard it in the chillest land -

And on the strangest Sea -

Yet - never - in Extremity,

It asked a crumb - of me.

This is such a precious metaphor. Thank you, Emily.

Emily Dickinson 1830–1886

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