It can’t be “Summer”!
That-got through!
It’s early-yet-for “Spring”!
There’s that long town of White-to cross-
Before the Blackbirds sing!
It can’t be “Dying”!
It’s too Rouge-
The Dead shall go in White-
So Sunset shuts my question down
With Cuffs of Chrysolite!
(Emily Dickinson)
More Poetry from Emily Dickinson:
- Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- Sic transit gloria mundi (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- I cannot live with You (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- The Wind begun to knead the Grass (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- One Year ago-jots what? (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- Your Riches - taugh (Emily Dickinson Poems)