Today's Poet - Emily Dickenson (1830-1886)

[moosesal]

I don't know how I managed to get so far into the month without having Dickenson as the poet of the day. But she slipped by me. So, here I present

280

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,
And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading--treading--till it seemed
That Sense was breaking through--

And when they all were seated,
A Service, like a Drum--
Kept beating--beating--till I thought
My Mind was going numb--

And then I heard them lift a Box
And creak across my Soul
With those same Boots of Lead, again,
Then Space--begain to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,
And Being, but an Ear,
And I, and Silence, some strange Race
Wrecked, solitary, here--

And then a Plank in Reason, broke,
And I dropped down, and down--
And hit a World, at every plunge,
And Finished knowing--then--
c. 1861

And from me. Inspired by Sunday's events. :)

Tattoo
the needle stings and
scrapes me as the ink is pressed
beneath my pale flesh