She Sweeps with Many-Colored Brooms

      by Emily Dickinson

      She sweeps with amny-colored brooms,
      And leaves the shreds behind;
      Oh, housewife in the evening west,
      come back, and dust the pond!

      You dropped a purple raveling in,
      You dropped an amber thred;
      And now you've littered all the East
      With duds of emerald!

      And still she plies her spotted brooms,
      And still the aprons fly,
      Till the aprons fly,
      Till brooms fade softly into stars-
      And then I come away.
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