THESE ARE THE DAYS WHEN BIRDS COME BACK

by: Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

      HESE are the days when birds come back,
      A very few, a bird or two,
      To take a backward look.
       
      These are the days when skies put on
      The old, old sophistries of June,--
      A blue and gold mistake.
       
      Oh, fraud that cannot cheat the bee,
      Almost thy plausibility
      Induces my belief,
       
      Till ranks of seeds their witness bear,
      And softly through the altered air
      Hurries a timid leaf!
       
      Oh, sacrament of summer days,
      Oh, last communion in the haze,
      Permit a child to join,
       
      Thy sacred emblems to partake,
      Thy consecrated bread to break,
      Taste thine immortal wine!

MORE POEMS BY EMILY DICKINSON

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