A
bit more than a month ago, I was searching the net for inspiration for a title
for a short story I had just written (I’m really bad at titles) and I found this
poem by Emily Dickinson. I thought I’d share with you…
Hope is the Thing with Feathers
by
Emily Dickinson
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.
