A Shady Friend For Torrid Days Poem by Emily Dickinson
A Shady Friend For Torrid Days
A shady friend for torrid days
Is easier to find
Than one of higher temperature
For frigid hour of mind.
The vane a little to the east
Scares muslin souls away;
If broadcloth breasts are firmer
Than those of organdy,
Who is to blame? The weaver?
Ah! the bewildering thread!
The tapestries of paradise!
So notelessly are made!
Again, the punctuation means just as much as the words do to a poem.
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4/18/2024 8:33:51 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Beautifully abstract. I like it.