Monday, May 28, 2012

astonishing emily dickinson poem about grief

There is a pain—so utter—
It swallows substance up—
Then covers the Abyss with Trance—
So Memory can step
Around—across—upon it—
As one within a Swoon—
Goes safely—where an open eye—
Would drop Him—Bone by Bone.

1 comment:

BD said...

Yes, I know that place.