emily-dickinson.gif Emily Dickinson image by alessepif
Emily Dickinson

[1858]



Morns like these — we parted —
Noons like these — she rose —
Fluttering first — then firmer
To her fair repose.

Never did she lisp it —
It was not for me —
She — was mute from transport —
I — from agony —

Till — the evening nearing
One the curtains drew —
Quick!  A sharper rustling!
And this linnet flew!  


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