Emily Dickinson

The Winters Are So Short

poem 403

The Winters are so short I’m hardly justified In sending all the Birds away And moving into Pod Myself for scarcely settled The Phoebes have begun And then it’s time to strike my Tent And open House again It’s mostly, interruptions My Summer is despoiled Because there was a Winter once And al the Cattle starved And so there was a Deluge And swept the World away But Ararat’s a Legend now And no one credits Noah

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