Ririro.com - Poetry

"A narrow Fellow in the Grass" is a short poem that follows a barefoot boy through summer fields, where something slips through the grass like a parted comb. He mistakes a spotted shape for a whip lash drying in the sun, until it wrinkles and vanishes the moment he stoops to grab it. The speaker feels at ease with nature's creatures, yet this one brings a tightened breath and a shiver that settles deep inside.

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"A Cap of Lead Across the Sky" is a short poem that turns an oncoming thunderstorm into something close to dread. A heavy, leaden lid of cloud presses down, and the watchers below search in vain for the sun's mighty face. A chill rises as though from a mineshaft, and noon sinks into a dark well. In just eight lines, the storm becomes a strange meeting of winter's cold and hell's menace.

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"A Burdock—clawed my Gown" is a short poem in which a snagged dress becomes a lesson in blame. The speaker admits she wandered too near the Burdock's den, then turns to a bog that spoils her shoe and the splashing walkers it was made to catch. Dickinson's dry humor builds toward minnows, who despise easily, and the calm-eyed Elephant, who looks further on.

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"A Bee his burnished Carriage" is a short poem that stages a bee's arrival at a rose as a grand, golden-wheeled visit. The bee drives boldly in, and the rose receives him with frank tranquillity, holding nothing back from his greedy appetite. In just a few lines, Emily Dickinson turns a garden moment into a quiet drama of appetite, surrender and aftermath, ending on the very different things each visitor carries away.

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"Real" is a short poem by Emily Dickinson that looks hard at the face of suffering and asks what cannot be faked. The speaker admires a look of agony precisely because it is true, since no one can counterfeit convulsion or mimic a throe. In just two stanzas, a single gaze and beads of sweat on a forehead become proof of genuine pain, and the poem leaves the reader with a chilling, quiet certainty.

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"The Hemlock" is a short poem by Emily Dickinson that turns a single evergreen into a portrait of stubborn endurance. The speaker pictures the tree standing at the edge of the snow, feeding on the gnash of northern winds and savoring cold the way others savor wine. Frost, bareness and austerity become sources of strength rather than hardship. Dickinson sets the hemlock's bleak, wild landscape against softer, "satin" lives, then closes on children playing and wrestlers running beneath its boughs.

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Beclouded is a short poem by Emily Dickinson that captures a gloomy winter sky in just eight lines. A single travelling snowflake hesitates over a barn and a rut, unsure whether to fall, while a narrow wind grumbles about being wronged. Dickinson gives the weather a petty, human mood, then turns the scene into a quiet reflection on how even Nature can be caught unprepared and stripped of her finery.

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Psalm of the Day is a short poem in which a speaker follows a mysterious "something" through a summer's morning, noon and night. The feeling is hushed and radiant: an azure depth, a wordless tune, a brightness so startling the speaker claps and then veils her face for fear it will flutter away. Flowers, bees and a wintry creature stirred by a tropic hint echo the quiet wonder of unexpected grace.

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"A little road not made of man" is a short Emily Dickinson poem that invites you down a path no wheel or foot can travel. Only the eye can follow it, while a bee and a butterfly pass along it with ease. The speaker gazes toward a town she cannot name and admits she can only sigh, since no vehicle will carry her there. Quiet, wistful and brief, it lingers on longing and the unreachable.

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In "The Grass," a short poem to read online, Emily Dickinson looks at a green meadow with playful envy. The grass has little to do but host butterflies, entertain bees, sway to the breeze and wear dew like pearls. Her speaker drifts through a gentle, sunlit mood, watching even the grass's fragrant afterlife in the barn as hay. The central tension is a quiet longing: what would it feel like to be so free of worry?

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