From The Stair Landing I learn that today is the Fourth Annual Bloggers Silent Poetry Reading.
Post your poem, (your own or another's) today.
Here is one by Emily Dickinson:
The sky is low, the clouds are mean,
A traveling flake of snow
Across a barn or through a rut
Debates if it will go.
A narrow wind complains all day
How someone treated him;
Nature, like us, is sometimes caught
Without her diadem.