I robbed the Woods

#41
I robbed the Woods -
The trusting Woods.
The unsuspecting Trees
Brought out their Burs and mosses
My fantasy to please.
I scanned their trinkets curious -
I grasped - I bore away -
What will the solemn Hemlock -
What will the Oak tree say?
- Emily Dickinson, c. 1858

When my children were small we lived in the country. We would often venture out into the woods to find ‘treasures’ - bits of moss, cool twigs, mushrooms and fungus - to bring home and make things with. When my kids went out with their dad, they would always bring back ‘treasures’ they had collected for me. This poem sent me back to those times. We didn’t have oak and hemlock trees, but I’m sure the pine and spruce that ‘brought out their burs and mosses’ for us didn’t mind that we gathered them up and took them home.
This could be a metaphor - perhaps she is talking about other writers or people she admires, gleaning ideas from them, or looking for acceptance or help in getting her poems published. It’s possible. But I like my memories . . .

My wheel is in the dark!

You might sometimes read a poem, and think, ‘if I knew more about the author, or what she was trying to say, I would enjoy the poem more.’ And perhaps you would. But one of the enjoyments I find in poetry is letting the words, and the style, flow over my mind, and see what happens. I enjoy the feeling that cannot be put into words. That is poetry.

#10
My wheel is in the dark!
I cannot see a spoke
Yet know its dripping feet
Go round and round.

My foot is on the Tide!
An unfrequented road -
Yet have all roads
A clearing at the end -

Some have resigned the Loom -
Some in the busy tomb
Find quaint employ -

Some with new - stately feet -
Pass royal through the gate -
Flinging the problem back
At you and I!
- Emily Dickinson, 1858

What do you feel? Triumph, confusion? Is it about death, or is it about life?