She Sweeps With Many-Colored Brooms


She sweeps with many-colored brooms,
And leaves the shreds behind;
Oh, housewife in the evening west,
Come back, and dust the pond!

You dropped a purple ravelling in,
You dropped an amber thread;
And now you've littered all the East
With duds of emerald!

And still she plies her spotted brooms,
And still the aprons fly,
Till brooms fade softly into stars - 
And then I come away.


facebook share button twitter share button reddit share button share on pinterest pinterest

Add She Sweeps With Many-Colored Brooms to your library.

Return to the Emily Dickinson library , or . . . Read the next poem; Snake

© 2022