Poetry Friday

A Day

I'll tell you how the sun rose,

A ribbon at a time.

The steeples swam in amethyst,

The news like squirrels ran.

The hills untied their bonnets,

The bobolinks begun.

Then I said softly to myself,

"That must have been the sun!"
........................

But how he set, I know not.

There seemed a purple stile

Which little yellow boys and girls

Were climbing all the while
Till when they reached the other side,

A dominie in gray

Put gently up the evening bars,

And led the flock away.

by Emily Dickinson

And now the fam is off to pick our year's supply of blueberries!