Sunday, January 17, 2016

Emily Dickinson: a winter poem


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 sang
Was all the one that played.
 -- Emily Dickinson --
Poem No. 1252
from The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
Edited by Thomas H. Johnson


Lean and spare, as are all of Emily Dickinson's poems.  Having lived in Chicago, I know what those "Brooms of Steel" are like.  The winds cut through anything one can wear, and only four walls can keep them out, mostly.  And, even on a sunny, windless day, the sun's heat is barely noticeable.  And the silence .  .  .

4 comments:

  1. Fortunately I have never had to suffer those Brooms of Steel, Fred. I have been for around a week or so in negative twenty degrees with snow on the ground. And thank goodness for the snow. Need I say that all the water pipes were frozen and we had to melt the snow for water.

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    1. madamevauquer,

      Twenty degrees below zero is experience enough of winter. One of the reasons I left Chicago was to get away from the winter. The heat here in Tucson is not much fun, but I'm glad I'm here when I check out the Chicago weather reports during the winter.

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  2. Since she lived in Amherst (and I lived in Pittsburgh, and you lived in Chicago, although I am glad that I didn't live in 19th century New England conditions), the three of us understand how the brooms sweeps the winter streets; there is the strange paradox that the death of winter also brings a cold swept cleaning necessary to the entry of spring. Southerners, I think, would not quite understand Dickinson's poem. Thanks, Fred, for posting a well-timed Dickinson poem. My winter is, I hope, receding and spring is waiting just around the corner, even as Beyond Eastrod has emerged from a winter darkness and has been returned to its renewed roots.

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    1. R.T.,

      That's what always kept me going during the Chicago winters--the thought that spring was getting closer each day.

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