Emily Dickinson

(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)

Like trains of cars on tracks of plush


Like trains of cars on tracks of plush
I hear the level bee:
A jar across the flowers goes,
Their velvet masonry

Withstands until the sweet assault
Their chivalry consumes,
While he, victorious, tilts away
To vanquish other blooms.

His feet are shod with gauze,
His helmet is of gold;
His breast, a single onyx
With chrysoprase, inlaid.

His labor is a chant,
His idleness a tune;
Oh, for a bee's experience
Of clovers and of noon!

Submitted: Tuesday, May 15, 2001
Edited: Tuesday, May 15, 2001

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