April gilded with the verses of Emily Dickinson…

It is Day 6 of reading Emily Dickinson and I cannot keep her from seeping in. My mind is full of thoughts about firmaments and bees. Her poems are consonant with the birdies outside, which is getting me to be more partial to spring. I think everything is so beautiful reading Emily Dickinson in the sun; then she breaks my heart with poignancy of death.

April the poetry month.

Although I am inconsolably fretful about pollen and people that come with spring, I am looking forward to April the National Poetry Month. This is the second year I am celebrating the poetry month by reading a poet I have not read before (outside of class). Last year I read A Part of Speech, an anthology of poems by Joseph Brodsky, gifted to me by natalie. This year, I will be reading The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson, edited by Thomas H. Johnson.

First I need to brag. I acquired, for two dollars, a beautiful hard cover copy of The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson at the Mid Manhattan Library book sale. Oh I loved to go there. The collection was eclectic, and constantly changing. This of course meant you couldn’t go there with a specific book in mind, but I think that’s what made the browsing experience so magical. You look through the shelves and find some lovely books you’ve had on your wishlist either to read or to own. That book sale, however,  is no more. And it is one of those things I knew about NYC and took for granted, gone, just gone. If the Mid Manhattan Library book sale ever gets resurrected, will someone kindly let me know? I want the bargain, but I also want to go back to the city I used to know.

I couldn’t resist buying a beautiful hard cover book containing the poems of Emily Dickinson. And I did really want to read her poems and thought I would if I had the book. I am quite ashamed to report, however, that I have owned the book for awhile but hesitated reading it. The closest I got to reading Emily Dickinson related stuff was reading a fun fiction called An Arsonist’s Guide to Writer’s Homes in New England by Brock Clarke (featuring the Emily Dickinson house) and it wasn’t even really about poetry. I think what kept me from reading her poems really is all that nature in her writing. Yuck.

Lately though, I am convinced reading about nature in poetry might not be so terrible. I may even like to vicariously experience nature through poetry just as I enjoy encountering nature as long as it’s through a car window. But then again, perhaps being a total city girl who finds comfort in the jungle of skyscrapers, I lack the ability to deeply appreciate nature imagery.

Well I am about to find out! I will read 25 pages of Emily Dickinson per day and I’ll have read through The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson by the end of the month. I am excited.