Emily Dickinson

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

A Fuzzy Fellow, Without Feet - Poem by Emily Dickinson


A fuzzy fellow, without feet,
Yet doth exceeding run!
Of velvet, is his Countenance,
And his Complexion, dun!

Sometime, he dwelleth in the grass!
Sometime, upon a bough,
From which he doth descend in plush
Upon the Passer-by!

All this in summer.
But when winds alarm the Forest Folk,
He taketh Damask Residence—
And struts in sewing silk!

Then, finer than a Lady,
Emerges in the spring!
A Feather on each shoulder!
You'd scarce recognize him!

By Men, yclept Caterpillar!
By me! But who am I,
To tell the pretty secret
Of the Butterfly!

Comments about A Fuzzy Fellow, Without Feet by Emily Dickinson

  • Indira Renganathan (10/30/2016 10:53:00 AM)

    so interestingly wonderful....Emily, only you can inspire me-10 (Report) Reply

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  • Susan Williams (4/14/2016 4:50:00 PM)

    Emily Dickinson noticed everything in her world- not even the lowly caterpillar passed by unnoticed. Perhaps that is the secret of her lively mind and penetrating verse (Report) Reply

  • (5/4/2014 9:06:00 AM)

    Yay caterpillars. Cute little things. (Report) Reply

  • (4/29/2014 10:00:00 PM)

    ...........a beautiful tribute to the butterfly... (Report) Reply

  • (3/30/2014 7:33:00 PM)

    .......butterfly's are amazing creatures...enjoyed... (Report) Reply

Read all 5 comments »

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Read poems about / on: butterfly, summer, spring, wind, running

Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

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