The Sun in Poetry

bill harwood mallorca spain

I’ll tell you how the sun rose,—

A ribbon at a time.

The steeples swam in amethyst,

The news like squirrels ran.

 

The hills untied their bonnets,

The bobolinks begun.

Then I said softly to myself,

“That must have been the sun!”

 

But how he set, I know not.

There seemed a purple stile

Which little yellow boys and girls

Were climbing all the while

 

Till when they reached the other side,

A dominie in gray

Put gently up the evening bars,

And led the flock away.

 

– Emily Dickinson

Photo by my friend, Bill Harwood, taken at dawn in Mallorca, Spain. 

5 thoughts on “The Sun in Poetry”

  1. I there a difference that you can tell between a sunrise and a sunset? I a lways thought things were calmer at sunrise. For ex., bodies of water like lakes and oceans are still and have no waves.

Leave a Comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *