Frigid air

Like Brooms of Steel
The Snow and Wind
Had swept the Winter Street --
The House was hooked
The Sun sent out
Faint Deputies of Heat --
Where rode the Bird
The Silence tied
His ample -- plodding Steed
The Apple in the Cellar snug
Was all the one that played.

-Emily Dickinson, "Like Brooms of Steel"


Shari said...

I adore this, Liane. The poem and the photos. :-)