Monday, December 31, 2007

"The Sky is Low"

Submitted for your reading pleasure, this Emily Dickinson poem of winter...

The sky is low, the clouds are mean,
A travelling flake of snow
Across a barn or through a rut
Debates if it will go.

A narrow wind complains all day
How some one treated him;
Nature, like us, is sometimes caught
Without her diadem.

(submitted by Moon Rani)

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