Poem

A shady friend for torrid days

Emily Dickinson
A shady friend for torrid days Is easier to find Than one of higher temperature For frigid hour of mind. The vane a little to the east Scares muslin souls away; If broadcloth breasts are firmer Than those of organdy, Who is to blame? The weaver? Ah! the bewildering thread! The tapestries of paradise! So notelessly are made!

One poem every morning.

6,130 poems from Shakespeare to Tupac. Read one a day. Save the ones that stay.
Free on the App Store.