Leafless

There is something beautiful and dramatic about a leafless tree silhouetted against the sky. I could go as silly over them as I do over fences, haystacks, abandoned houses and Royal Hotels. I will try to resist.

Musing:
By Emily Dickinson
"THE murmuring of bees has ceased;
But murmuring of some
Posterior, prophetic,
Has simultaneous come,—

The lower metres of the year,
When nature’s laugh is done,—
The Revelations of the book
Whose Genesis is June."