'A Narrow Fellow in the Grass'

A narrow Fellow in the Grass
Occasionally rides -
You may have met him? Did you not
His notice instant is -

The Grass divides as with a comb -
A spotted Shaft is seen,
And then it closes at your Feet
And opens further on -

He likes a Boggy Acre -
A Floor too cool for Corn -
Yet when a Boy and barefoot
I more than once at Noon,

Have passed I thought a Whip Lash
Unbraiding in the Sun
When stooping to secure it
It wrinkled And was gone -

Several of Nature's People
I know and they know me
I feel for them a transport
Of Cordiality;

But never met this Fellow
Attended or alone
Without a tighter Breathing
And Zero at the Bone.

 	-- Emily Dickinson