Emily Dickinson

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

The sky is low, the clouds are mean,


The sky is low, the clouds are mean,
A travelling flake of snow
Across a barn or through a rut
Debates if it will go.

A narrow wind complains all day
How some one treated him;
Nature, like us, is sometimes caught
Without her diadem.

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

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