Emily Dickinson: "Frequently the woods are pink--"

This poem, reflecting the change of seasons, is one of the most accessible and understandable of her poems,  at least it is for me.  Of course, it appears to be an early one, possibly composed as early as 1858, according to the editor, Thomas H. Johnson, which may account for its unusual straightforwardness.


#6

Frequently the woods are pink --
Frequently are brown.
Frequently the hills undress
Behind my native town.
Oft a head is crested
I was wont to see --
And as oft a cranny
Where it used to be --
And the Earth -- they tell me --
On its Axis turned!
Wonderful rotation!
By but twelve performed!  

-- Emily Dickinson --
from The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson, a poem

#9

Through lane it lay -- through bramble --
Through clearing and through wood --
Banditti often passed us
Upon the lonely road.

The wolf came peering curious --
The owl looked puzzled down --
The serpent's satin figure
Glid stealthily along --

The tempests touched our garments --
The lightning's poinards gleamed --
Fierce from the Crag above us
The hungry Vulture screamed --

That satyr's fingers beckoned --
The valley murmured "Come" --
These were the mates --
This was the road
These children fluttered home. 

-- Emily Dickinson --
#9
from The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson
edited by Thomas H. Jackson


Lucky children .  .  . or so I think, and perhaps Emily Dickinson thinks the same.