Tuesday, 10 December 2013


Mural at West Cemetery, Amherst, Mass.
This day in 1830, my favourite poet, Emily Dickinson, was born. I went to her house and grave in Amherst a few weeks ago - beautiful places, both.

Two poems today in honour of Emily - one of my favourites of hers and one I wrote about her, 'Miss Emily Dickinson’s Coconut Cake'; it appeared in Prairie Schooner. If you would like to make Emily's cake, I posted the recipe here;  it's lovely - simple and delicious.

Happy birthday, Emily.

Emily's grave

"Hope" is the thing with feathers—
That perches in the soul—
And sings the tune without the words—
And never stops—at all—

And sweetest—in the Gale—is heard—
And sore must be the storm—
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm—

I've heard it in the chillest land—
And on the strangest Sea—
Yet, never, in Extremity,
It asked a crumb—of Me.

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