Dear March — Come in —
How glad I am —
I hoped for you before —
Put down your Hat —
You must have walked —
How out of Breath you are —
Dear March, Come right up the stairs with me —
I have so much to tell —
I got your Letter, and the Birds —
The Maples never knew that you were coming — till I called
I declare — how Red their Faces grew —
But March, forgive me — and
All those Hills you left for me to Hue —
There was no Purple suitable —
You took it all with you —
Who knocks? That April.
Lock the Door —
I will not be pursued —
He stayed away a Year to call
When I am occupied —
But trifles look so trivial
As soon as you have come
That Blame is just as dear as Praise
And Praise as mere as Blame —
~ Emily Dickinson
***
I post this poem every March.
***
Image by Alexandra_Koch licensed under CC0 via pixabay.com
I can see why you post it every March – good one – 😉
And March can march right upstairs with me too
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March has been amazingly cold in Central Texas this year. I wonder how it’s going in Massachusetts.
I’m glad you like the poem. Thanks for commenting.
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🙂
and hope you have a wonderful spring –
so much to appreciate
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I’m glad you do. I love it.
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Me, too. Emily is my idol.
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Enjoyed this, would like to get in touch. Thanks. Brian
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Glad you liked it. I’m delighted to hear from you. I wrote you an email but didn’t click Send. My hobby. I’ll try again.
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