Today we’re studying Emily Dickinsen and her poetry. We analyzed the following:

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune without the words,
And never stops at all.
(Teo’s interpretation: Hope is able to exist to inspire, even without words-like silent autistics)
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
(Teo: if hope isn’t secure and replaced with “knowing,” it can disappear in hard times.)
I’ve heard it in the chilliest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.
(Teo: Hope is heard louder than aggression or hard times. Because her hope is so strong, it is never stolen.)

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