The sky is low, the clouds are mean,

Emily Dickinson

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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.

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Comments1
  • Lisa

    WOW, "A NARROW WIND COMPLAINS ALL DAY HOW SOMEONE TREATED HIM" – REALLY FELT THAT! THIS POEM HAS AN INTENSE MOOD AND VIVID IMAGERY. LOVE HOW NATURE IS PERSONIFIED.