In Gray

Nature, LXXIII

Emily Dickinson


I'll tell you how the sun rose,
A ribbon at a time.
The steeples swam in amethyst,
The news like squirrels ran.

The hills untied their bonnets,
The bobolinks begun.
Then I said softly to myself,
"That must have been the sun!"

But how he set, I know not.
There seemed a purple stile
Which little yellow boys and girls
Were climbing all the while

Till when they reached the other side,
A dominie in gray
Put gently up the evening bars,
And led the flock away.



The news like squirrels ran, there's a hawk in the garden!! No striped chipmunks or birds to be seen. I could only catch just this bold gray who snatched a peanut, rested a bit, gave me the eye and took off to the safety of tangled branches and dappled light.