That one poem

I have always preferred to write poetry in the style of Walt Whitman- free, full of feeling and noises. But Emily Dickinson’s gentle cynicism has always been dear to my heart. She was so different and yet still similar to myself.

There is a poem that I was taught in 11th grade when learning about American Literature from Ms. Pulliam- one of my all-time favorite teachers- and it became my immediate goal to memorize it. A short, sweet and utterly brilliant poem, it brought wonder and awe to my young, contentious mind.

I now feel the need to share it and document in blood (kinda since the internet is forever) how meaningful it is to me and to share it with you.

 

Apparently with no surprise

By: Emily Dickinson

 

Apparently with no surprise

To any happy Flower

The Frost beheads it at its play—

In accidental power—

 

The blonde Assassin passes on—

The Sun proceeds unmoved

To measure off another Day

For an Approving God.

 

 

Ponder that.

xoxo

– Am