It looks like spring and it feels like spring. Yet technically it's still winter. The weather is so warm we almost don't need a coat. The birds such as the robins are also back and busy collecting straw and building nests. I love it.
To greet the spring I found a poem by Emily Dickinson an American poet. She wrote a lot of poetry yet it wasn't until her death in 1866, that the scope of her work was realized when her sister Lavinia found her poems in her dresser drawer. Only 10 of her 1,700 poems were published during her lifetime. I guess good things come from the most unassuming people.
Bee! I'm Expecting You!
Bee! I'm expecting you!
Was saying yesterday
to somebody you know
that you were due-
The frogs got home last week-
are settled, and at work-
birds, mostly black-
the clover warm and thick-
You'll get my letter by
the seventeenth; Reply
Or better, be with me-
Yours, Fly.
To greet the spring I found a poem by Emily Dickinson an American poet. She wrote a lot of poetry yet it wasn't until her death in 1866, that the scope of her work was realized when her sister Lavinia found her poems in her dresser drawer. Only 10 of her 1,700 poems were published during her lifetime. I guess good things come from the most unassuming people.
Bee! I'm Expecting You!
Bee! I'm expecting you!
Was saying yesterday
to somebody you know
that you were due-
The frogs got home last week-
are settled, and at work-
birds, mostly black-
the clover warm and thick-
You'll get my letter by
the seventeenth; Reply
Or better, be with me-
Yours, Fly.
No comments:
Post a Comment