I know a place where Summer strives
With such a practised Frost—
She—each year—leads her Daisies back—
Recording briefly—"Lost"—
But when the South Wind stirs the
Pools
And struggles in the lanes—
Her Heart misgives Her, for Her Vow—
And she pours soft Refrains
Into the lap of Adamant—
And spices—and the Dew—
That stiffens quietly to Quartz—
Upon her Amber Shoe—
F363
(1862) 337
This graceful
tribute to summer reminds me of “These
are the days when Birds come back” where Indian summer, “A blue and gold
mistake,” fools a few birds into thinking that summer has come back. ”
![]() |
Gorgeous New England fall |
In this poem summer is like a queen who battles every year with the “practiced Frost” of autumn. Every
year she loses and leads her daisies in retreat, recording them as “lost.” But then a warm southern wind comes back and
she has second thoughts. She "pours" her song into the "lap" of hard, frosty earth. This may be her favorite troubador, the robin, accompanied by the frogs and bees and breezes. She sets the fragrant flowers growing and helps them grow with morning dew.
Alas, in a few months the dew will once again freeze, stiffening "quietly to Quartz" upon the now yellowing "Amber Shoe" of summer.
Alas, in a few months the dew will once again freeze, stiffening "quietly to Quartz" upon the now yellowing "Amber Shoe" of summer.
Very dickinsonian with vivid picture, memorable phrases and boundless creativity, but not my favorite of hers
ReplyDelete