The Winters are so short —
by Emily Dickinson (1830–1886) English
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 —
More poems by Emily Dickinson
-
Because I could not stop for Death—
He kindly stopped for me—
The Carriage held but just Ourselves— …
-
There is a pain — so utter —
It swallows substance up —
Then covers the Abyss with Trance — …
-
A charm invests a face
Imperfectly beheld.
The lady dare not lift her veil …
-
There came a Wind like a Bugle —
It quivered through the Grass
And a Green Chill upon the Heat …
All poems by Emily Dickinson →