Covid-19, April 12, 2020

Because it’s Easter, a holiday associated with life, light, nature, and possibility –

And because “Hope,” here, is symbolized as a bird –

And, because, it’s Emily Dickinson –

I offer up this poem to remember…

“Hope” is the thing with feathers –

That perches in the soul –

And sings the tune without the words –

And never stops – at all –

And sweetest – in the Gale – is heard –

And sore must be the storm –

That could abash the little Bird

That kept so many warm –

 

I’ve heard it in the chillest land –

And on the strangest Sea –

Yet – never – in Extremity,

It asked a crumb – of me.

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