A poem about snow by Emily Dickinson.

  #  311

It sifts from Leaden Sieves –

It powders all the Wood.

It fills with Alabaster Wool

The Wrinkles of the Road –
 

It makes an Even Face

Of Mountain, and of Plain –

Unbroken Forehead from the East

Unto the East again –
 

It reaches to the Fence –

It wraps it Rail by Rail

Till it is lost in Fleeces –

It deals Celestial Vail
 

To Stump, and Stack – and Stem –

A Summer’s empty Room –

Acres of Joints, where Harvests were,

Recordless, but for them –
 
It Ruffles Wrists of Posts

As Ankles of a Queen –

Then stills its Artisans – like Ghosts –

Denying they have been –
 
 
What do you think of Emily? What do you think of my blog design?
I value your feedback so don’t be afraid to leave your opinion in a comment!

Advertisements

3 thoughts on “A poem about snow by Emily Dickinson.

  1. Pingback: I Robbed The Woods By Emily Dickinson | Renard Moreau Presents

Share your thoughts on this piece.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s