A bird came down the walk:
He did not know I saw;
He bit an angle-worm in halves
And ate the fellow, raw.
And then he drank a dew
From a convenient grass,
And then hopped sidewise to the wall
To let a beetle pass.
He glanced with rapid eyes
That hurried all abroad,—
They looked like frightened beads, I thought;
He stirred his velvet head
Like one in danger; cautious,
I offered him a crumb,
And he unrolled his feathers
And rowed him softer home
Than oars divide the ocean,
Too silver for a seam,
Or butterflies, off banks of noon,
Leap, splashless, as they swim.
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From guest Dead Kennedy Rolls (contact)
This poem, as are many of Dickinson's, is/are particularly hard to understand. Dickinson sort of throws together free verse and a somewhat random rhyming scheme here, and I definitely think that everyone except Dickinson overlooks the last stanza in reading this poem. I honestly don't know if I have ever read this poem before, but something tells me that I think I have. The detail here is highly impressive, and is done in a taut, concisive manner that only Emily Dickinson is capable of. However, I do not think that the bird here is the subject of Dickinson's poem, which, I think, there is evidence to support by the seemingly random last stanza. This has a very surreal feel to it, almost as if she is breaking down the boundaries, wanting to be a bird herself. But of course, this is all im prompt tu speculation. -
a nice story in once an abstract illustraction a painting
something I like to write where the sotry is in one
He rpoetry remind sme so much of mine
in its format
she must really love birds and rocks
very nicely written again -
detailed words... capturing the vivid imagery ... in words of adoration about nature and mundane incidents from daily life...
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