Windmill and There came a wind like a bugle, by Emily Dickinson

Windmills on every ridge

Windmills on every ridge

Those windmills that dot the countryside and seem to top every ridge in central Pennsylvania are way bigger than they seem.

What is that up there?

What is that up there?

Is that...a windmill vane?

Is that…a windmill vane?

whoa

whoa (if this image isn’t moving, you can click on it to view it in your browser)

There came a wind like a bugle;
It quivered through the grass,
And a green chill upon the heat
So ominous did pass
We barred the windows and the doors
As from an emerald ghost;
The doom’s electric moccasin
That very instant passed.
On a strange mob of panting trees,
And fences fled away,
And rivers where the houses ran
Those looked that lived—that Day—
The bell within the steeple wild
The flying tidings whirled.
How much can come
And much can go,
And yet abide the world!

– Emily Dickinson

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “Windmill and There came a wind like a bugle, by Emily Dickinson

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: