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Monday, February 4, 2013

Mid-Winter Hope

"Hope" is the thing with feathers

by Emily Dickinson

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.


  1. That is one pretty feather. Do you have a bird there that is that color?

    1. There must be at least one, because both my hubby and I have found this color of feather. It may be a flicker (its tail feathers).

      We see mostly jays here, although in the spring I often drive down the road accompanied by some purplish blue birds.

      I really need to get out the bird book and start identifying these guys!


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