To Emily Dickinson

Dear Emily, my tears would burn your page,
But for the fire-dry line that makes them burn'
Burning my eyes, my fingers, while I turn
Singly the words that crease my heart with age.
If I could make some tortured pilgrimage
Through words or Time. or the blank pain of Doom
And kneel before you as you found your tomb,
Then I might rise to face my heritage.

Yours was an empty upland solitude
Bleached to the powder of a dying name;
The mind, lost in a word's lost certitude
That faded as the fading footsteps came
To trace an epilogue to words grown odd
In that hard argument which led to God.

Poem topics: , , , , , ,

Rate this poem:

Add To Emily Dickinson poem to your favorites

Add Poet Yvor Winters to your favorites

Popular Poets

Arthur Colton (2 poems)
William (Johnson) Cory (2 poems)
Professorpavaki Kaaya (0 poems)
Sheikh Zaues (0 poems)
William Dunbar (4 poems)
Elizabeth Wilcox (1 poems)
Emily Lawless (3 poems)
Francis Ledwidge (6 poems)
Douglas Hyde (8 poems)
Charles Harper Webb (5 poems)

Popular Poems

John Wasson, by Edgar Lee Masters
Bush-Clover Flowers, by Matsuo Basho
Address To Kilchurn Castle, Upon Loch Awe, by William Wordsworth
Marsupial Bill: Part Second., by James Brunton Stephens
Song Of The Innocents, by George MacDonald
Circumstances Alter Cases, by Paul Laurence Dunbar
Sonnet Ci: The One Hope, by Dante Gabriel Rossetti
The Battle Of Omdurman, by William Topaz McGonagall
England's Answer, by Rudyard Kipling
The Star Of Australasia, by Henry Lawson