1667
I watcher her face to see which way
She took the awful news-
Whether she died before she heard
Or in protracted bruise
Remained a few slow years with us-
Each heavier than the last-
A further afternoon to fail,
As Flower at fall of Frost.
I Watcher Her Face To See Which Way
Emily Dickinson
(1)
Poem topics: flower, frost, face, slow, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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