The sky is low
 
Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
 
 

THE SKY is low, the clouds are mean,
A travelling flake of snow
Across a barn or through a rut
Debates if it will go.

  
A narrow wind complains all day
How some one treated him;
Nature, like us, is sometimes caught
Without her diadem.

2013-10

 
   
Friends of the Wild Flower Garden, Inc.