The Dangling Conversation

Emily Dickinson by Mark Siegel

Hope is the things 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 abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chilliest land

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

- Emily Dickinson; Hope is the Thing with Feathers.

Good Friend, Yr Hunger- Castanets.