Emily 

I do not ask
the summer
Extraordinary gain
Nor do I beg the harvest
But modest share of grain
 
In spring the small wild flower
Seeks only to become
With sips of soil and water
A brief life in the sun
 
Can I expect more glory
How can I ask less pain than
Her - my wealthy sister
Bent over in the rain
 
When my wings are folded
And petals close in grief
When expectations fail me
And I lose all belief
 
Wild flowers yield a secret
'more life in fewer days'
Than we with all our wanting
Will find in all our ways
 
(A tribute to Emily Dickinson) 

~ Les Blough, 1987

More poetry by Les Blough

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