Tuesday, November 1, 2011

Day 1: Old Writer Response Prompt

Emily Dickinson 
Her breast is fit for pearls,
But I was not a `Diver' -
Her brow is fit for thrones
But I have not a crest.
Her heart is fit for home -
I - a Sparrow - build there
Sweet twigs and twine
My perennial nest.

The Flight of Emilie

My sparrow is, at once, here
she is in the night of time
and paces the door frame-
She ruffles against grain,
but she isn’t trapped by stars-
There is a moment before flight
and she, with again human
hands, presses against me
and mutes my breath.