by Emily Dickinson
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American Literature – American Poetry – Emily Dickinson
< < < To March
To venerate the simple days > > >
To my quick ear the leaves conferred
To my quick ear the leaves conferred;
The bushes they were bells;
I could not find a privacy
From Nature’s sentinels.
In cave if I presumed to hide,
The walls began to tell;
Creation seemed a mighty crack
To make me visible.
< < < To March
To venerate the simple days > > >
American Literature – American Poetry – Emily Dickinson
Copyright holders – Public Domain
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