A Bird came down the Walk--
He did not know I saw--
He bit an Angleworm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw,
And then he drank a Dew
From a convenient Grass--
And then hopped sidewise to the Wall
To let a Beetle pass--
He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all around--
They looked like frightened Beads, I thought--
He stirred his Velvet Head
Like one in danger, Cautious,
I offered him a Crumb
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home--
Than Oars divide the Ocean,
Too silver for a seam--
Or Butterflies, off Banks of Noon
Leap, plashless as they swim.
Some thoughts...
on this poem: As I've already spoken about Emily Dickinson's life earlier in this blog, I won't go over that again. Though that poem was of a more philosophical bent, Dickinson was also a keen-eyed observer of Nature. It's said that a picture can say more than a thousand words; I would say that here, with an elegant economy of words, the poet has painted a very pretty picture indeed.
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