by: Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
- EW feet within my garden go,
- New fingers stir the sod;
- A troubadour upon the elm
- Betrays the solitude.
We are planning to have the library painted and new carpets put in this summer. It's my job to pack the entire print collection to move it out of the way. Yikes! We are doing a hard weed (particularly of the reference section) in order not to pack books that are no longer a perfect fit for our collection. Today I found a somewhat worn copy of Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson in the "Discard" box. I rescued it for my own shelves. Above is one of my favorite short works for spring.
Friday Poetry is rounded up at Big A little a today. Enjoy!