"Hope" is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -
Poem 254
The dreamy Butterflies bestir!
Lethargic pools resume the whir
of last year's sundered tune!
From one old Fortress on the sun
Baronial Bees - march -one by one -
In murmuring platoon!
The Robins stand as thick today
As flakes of snow stood yesterday -
On Fence - and Roof - and Twig!
The Orchis binds her Feather on
For her old lover - Don the Sun!
Revisiting the Bog!
Payot - Marque Page - Anne Guillemet - Poésies d'Emily Dickinson