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“Now through the white orchard my little dog
romps, breaking the new snow
with wild feet.
Running here running there, excited,
hardly able to stop, he leaps, he spins
until the white snow is written upon
in large, exuberant letters,
a long sentence, expressing
the pleasures of the body in this world.

Oh, I could not have said it better myself.”

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source: “The Storm,” in Winter Hours: Prose, Prose Poems, and Poems (New York: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2000), 90.

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medium: Poem

“It was snowing. It was always snowing at Christmas. December, in my memory, is white as Lapland, though there were no reindeers. But there were cats.”

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source: “A Child’s Christmas in Wales,” in The Collected Stories (New York: New Directions, 1986), 296.

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medium: Fiction

via: Sarah Kershaw

“It snowed on Christmas night. We walked to Times Square to see the white billboard proclaiming WAR IS OVER! If you want it. Happy Christmas from John and Yoko.”

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source: Just Kids (New York: Ecco, 2010), 130.

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medium: memoir

“My garden is all covered up by snow; picked gilliflower Tuesday, now gilliflowers are asleep. The hills take off their purple frocks, and dress in long white nightgowns.”

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source: The Letters of Emily Dickinson vol 2, ed. by Thomas H. Johnson (Cambridge, MA: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 1958), 228.

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medium: letter

notes: letter to Louise Norcross, Dickinson's first cousin, December 1860?

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