some of my Emily Dickinson
Carol Peters
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2010
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February
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January
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2009
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December
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November
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October
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Joy to have merited the Pain —
Guest am I to have
Defrauded I a Butterfly —
As the Starved Maelstrom laps the Navies
The Trees like Tassels — hit — and swung —
Escaping backward to perceive
Ourselves were wed one summer — dear —
Up Life's Hill with my little Bundle
I could suffice for Him, I knew —
A Clock stopped —
Crisis is a Hair
The name — of it— is "Autumn" —
His Mansion in the Pool
Two Butterflies went out at Noon
Through lane it lay — through bramble —
Who occupies this House?
What Inn is this
Behind Me — dips Eternity —
The Merchant of the Picturesque
A Shade opon the mind there passes
The Night was wide, and furnished scant
Forever at His side to walk —
That short — potential stir
It is dead — Find it —
I've dropped my Brain — My Soul is numb —
You've seen Balloons set — Hav'nt You?
Escape is such a thankful Word
Somewhat, to hope for
A precious — mouldering pleasure — 'tis —
Let me not mar that perfect Dream
A Dying Tiger — moaned for Drink —
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September
(1)
Thursday, October 15, 2009
What Inn is this
What Inn is this
Where for the night
Peculiar Traveller comes?
Who is the Landlord?
Where the maids?
Behold, what curious rooms!
No ruddy fires on the hearth —
No brimming Tankards flow.
Necromancer! Landlord!
Who are these below?
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