“Dear March, come in!
How glad I am!
I hoped for you before
Put down your hat
You must have walked
How out of breath you are!
Dear March, how are you?
–Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)
“Hope is the thing with feathers-
that perches in the soul –
and sings the tune without the words –
and never stops – at all – …”
–Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)