Frequently the wood are pink

Emily Dickinson

 Next Poem          

6

Frequently the wood are pink—
Frequently are brown.
Frequently the hills undress
Behind my native town.
Oft a head is crested
I was wont to see—
And as oft a cranny
Where it used to be—
And the Earth— they tell me—
On its Axis turned!
Wonderful Rotation!
By but twelve performed!

Next Poem 

 Back to Emily Dickinson

To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.