The start of this month marks the 12th Bloggers’ (Silent) Poetry Reading in honor of St. Brigid, patron saint of poetry. I no longer know what day it’s supposed to be on, since we all started on Feb. 2. But St. Brigid’s Day is actually the 1st, and that is when the few who still participate seem to share their choices. However, I am a traditionalist on this issue and continue to participate on the 2nd. This year, I decided to share a poem I memorized way back in seventh grade, since it seemed apt:

“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 not stop the little Bird
That kept so many warm —

I’ve heard in the chillest land —
And on the strangest Sea —
Yet — never — in Extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

   ~Emily Dickinson

I apologize if the punctuation/capitalization is off. I didn’t memorize that part, and it’s not included in any of the poetry books I have on hand here in the Burrow. Pending a definitive reference, I’ve opted to go with The Poetry Foundation’s stylization, since the American Academy of Poets seems to have modernized it on their site.

In previous years, I have shared poems by Kyle Dargan, Barbara Crooker, William Stafford, Mary Oliver (twice), Wislawa Szymborska, Stuart Dischell, Jean Esteve, John Frederick Nims, Grace Paley, Heather McHugh, and Barbara Hamby, all of which are worth another read.