To March (Poem by Emily Dickinson)

To March

By Emily Dickinson

Dear March, come in!

How glad I am!

I looked for you before.

Put down your hat — 

You must have walked — 

How out of breath you are!

Dear March, how are you?

And the rest?

Did you leave Nature well?

Oh, March, come right upstairs with me,

I have so much to tell!

I got your letter, and the birds';

The maples never knew

That you were coming, — I declare,

How red their faces grew!

But, March, forgive me — 

And all those hills

You left for me to hue;

There was no purple suitable,

You took it all with you.

Who knocks? That April!

Lock the door!

I will not be pursued!

He stayed away a year, to call

When I am occupied.

But trifles look so trivial

As soon as you have come,

That blame is just as dear as praise

And praise as mere as blame.

Poem Analysis:

Emily Dickinson’s poem “To March” is a vibrant and playful personification of the month of March. Through the poetic device of apostrophe — a direct address to an absent or personified object — Dickinson transforms a natural event into a lively domestic encounter, blending whimsy, joy, and underlying reflection. This poem exemplifies her unique style: compressed, elliptical, and rich with layered emotion beneath deceptively simple language.

Overview

The speaker addresses March as a long-anticipated visitor, giving the poem the tone of a lighthearted but emotionally charged monologue. Structured in free verse with rhythmic irregularities, it reads like a conversation — breathless and animated — yet it also contains subtle commentary on change, time, interruption, and the shifting value of perception.

Dear March, come in!

How glad I am!

I looked for you before.

Put down your hat —

You must have walked —

How out of breath you are!

This opening bursts with exuberance. March is treated like an old friend arriving after a long absence. The tone is intimate and familiar, full of breathless exclamations. The imagery is domestic and welcoming — “Put down your hat” — yet March is also personified as a traveler, out of breath from the journey. Dickinson invites nature into the personal interior space of the speaker's life, blurring the boundary between the external season and the internal emotional world.

Dear March, how are you?

And the rest?

Did you leave Nature well?

Oh, March, come right upstairs with me,

Here the speaker continues the metaphor of a visiting guest, asking after “Nature” as if it were family. This suggests that March is part of a larger natural order, and the speaker feels a personal investment in its well-being. Inviting March “upstairs” is a gesture of deep intimacy, signaling that this isn’t just a passing visitor but someone with whom she shares private thoughts.

I have so much to tell!

I got your letter, and the birds';

The maples never knew

That you were coming, — I declare,

How red their faces grew!

But, March, forgive me —

This stanza is full of charming metaphors and wit. Dickinson imagines having received a “letter” from March — possibly referring to signs of spring like early birdsong — and humorously attributes blushing to the maples (perhaps referring to their budding or reddening in spring). There’s a childlike delight in the observations, mixing awe at nature’s awakening with playful anthropomorphism.

And all those hills

You left for me to hue;

There was no purple suitable,

You took it all with you.

These lines introduce a slightly more pensive tone. The speaker feels left with the task of coloring the hills, but March has “taken all the purple” — a poetic way of saying the hues of early spring are missing or have already been spent. The wordplay on “hue” (color and act of coloring) reinforces Dickinson’s imaginative creativity, while also hinting at the fleeting nature of beauty and color in seasonal change.

Who knocks? That April!

Lock the door!

I will not be pursued!

He stayed away a year, to call

Suddenly, April appears — not as a welcomed guest, but an interloper. The speaker wishes to delay April’s arrival, expressing a desire to hold on to March, perhaps out of emotional attachment or fear of being rushed forward. This moment shows Dickinson's subtle engagement with time and its relentless progression. Even within joy, there is resistance to change.

When I am occupied.

But trifles look so trivial

As soon as you have come,

That blame is just as dear as praise

And praise as mere as blame.

In the final lines, the poem shifts into philosophical introspection. March’s arrival renders past concerns meaningless — “trifles look so trivial” — and the emotional extremes of praise and blame lose their contrast. This suggests that March brings a clarity or equilibrium that balances out emotional intensity. Perhaps spring offers a spiritual renewal in which all human distinctions dissolve into acceptance.

Themes

• Personification of Nature: The poem turns March into a living character, imbuing the season with personality and agency. This not only animates the natural world but also makes it deeply relatable, emphasizing the intimate relationship between human emotion and seasonal change.
• Time and Transition: There is a tension between holding on and moving forward. March is warmly embraced, while April is rejected. Dickinson captures the anxiety and excitement inherent in transitions — especially those that are out of our control.
• Imagination and Perception: The poem is a celebration of poetic imagination, where seasons write letters, trees blush, and nature climbs the stairs. It reflects Dickinson’s genius in transforming the ordinary into the extraordinary.
• Emotional Balance: The final insight — that “blame is just as dear as praise” — suggests a philosophical maturity. With March’s presence, the speaker reaches a place where external validation loses importance, and internal peace is restored.

Style and Language

• Tone: Energetic, playful, intimate, shifting into reflective
• Form: Free-form with rhythmic unpredictability and dashes — characteristic of Dickinson’s style
• Imagery: Vivid and anthropomorphic — birds send letters, April knocks at the door, maples blush
• Syntax and Punctuation: The use of dashes creates a sense of breathless spontaneity and fragmentation, aligning with the speaker’s excitement and thought-flow.

“To March” is a luminous example of Emily Dickinson’s poetic voice — intimate, imaginative, and philosophical. What begins as a spirited welcome to spring becomes a meditation on change, memory, and emotional clarity. March, in this poem, is more than a month — it is a metaphor for arrival, awakening, and the subtle joy of simply being present.

Dickinson’s genius lies in making a conversation with a month feel as poignant as a human relationship — one full of affection, reluctance, and meaning.