Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

* * *

It’s coming — the postponeless Creature —
It gains the Block — and now — it gains the Door —
Chooses its latch, from all the other fastenings —
Enters — with a “You know Me — Sir”?

Simple Salute — and certain Recognition —
Bold — were it Enemy — Brief — were it friend —
Dresses each House in Crape, and Icicle —
And carries one — out of it — to God —

1. Going
2. I Have a King Who Does Not Speak
3. I Know a Place Where Summer Strives
4. Pompless No Life Can Pass Away
5. Unto My Books So Good to Turn

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