“Hope” is the thing with feathers -
That perches in the soul -
And sings the tune without the words -
And never stops - at all -

And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard -
And sore must be the storm -
That could abash the little Bird
That kept so many warm -

I’ve heard it in the chillest land -
And on the strangest Sea -
Yet - never - in Extremity,
It asked a crumb - of me.

  • Source: The Poems of Emily Dickinson Edited by R. W. Franklin (Harvard University Press, 1999)

Poet Bio

What People are Saying

"I've had the opportunity to meet students and teachers across Montana who share a love for the arts. Poetry Out Loud fosters a connection between all who participate. I've made connections with peers and mentors that will last for years to come."
Savannah Smith
2016 MT POL Champion