In honor of me finishing my first text of the semester and the official end of my summer, here's one of my favorite end of summer poems, or rather, the only end of summer poem I know of.
#130
Here are the days when Birds come back -
A very few - a bird or two -
To take a backward look.
These are the days when skies resume
The old - old sophistries of June -
A blue and gold mistake.
Oh fraud that cannot cheat the bee -
Almost thy plasibility
Induces my belief.
Till ranks of seeds their witness bear -
And softly thro' the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf.
Oh Sacrament of summer days,
Oh Last Communion in the Haze -
Permit a child to Join.
Thy sacred emblems to partake-
Thy consecrated bread to take
And thine immortal wine!
--Emily Dickinson
Here's hoping for new adventures, more sleep, and maybe a moment of clarity for me this year
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2 comments:
Though I've never read that poem before, I knew by its tang as soon as I started that it was the luminous Emily. Have you ever read Hopkins' "Hurrahing in the Harvest"? I memorized that for my commemoration of the end of the summer.
I have this friend named Phil. He used to blog about his life, and philosophy, and whatever interesting things popped into his head. Then he stopped. And I was so sad. I wish he would blog again...
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