Indian Summer
Wednesday, October 11, 2006
Indian Summer
Another American poet with a good October poem is Emily Dickinson. This poem I always remember because I saw it first a quarter century ago preparing for the AP English test. When published in 1864 it actually was labeled ‘October’. While there are words and even metaphors in common with the later poem on October by Helen Hunt Jackson, Dickinson takes a much different tack – focusing not on the change of seasons – but a pause in the transition (what we Midwesterners used to call ‘Indian Summer’).
There is this idea that the warm spell of weather implies that summer, and perhaps life, can go on forever – or at least return again and again forever – as the ‘ranks of seeds their witness bear.’ This idea of immortality deftly becomes a religious metaphor on the seasons(sacraments) of life and death, and what awaits us in the transition and rebirth. Dickinson’s skill lies in showing us this universal metaphor – framing it in so few words – and imparting such a sense of awe. --Steve
These are the days when Birds come back
THESE are the days when Birds come back--A very few--a Bird or two--
To take a backward look.
These are the days when skies resume
The old--old sophistries of June--
A blue and gold mistake.
Oh fraud that cannot cheat the Bee--
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief.
Till ranks of seeds their witness bear--
And softly thro' the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf.
Oh Sacrament of summer days,
Oh Last Communion in the Haze--
Permit a child to join.
Thy sacred emblems to partake--
Thy consecrated bread to take
And thine immortal wine!
Emily Dickinson
