I Felt It Shelter To Speak To

I'm Nobody! Who Are You? Are You – Nobody – Too? Then There's A Pair Of Us? Don't Tell! They'd Advertise – You Know! How Dreary – To Be – Somebody! How Public – Like A Frog – To Tell One's Name – The Livelong June – To An Admiring Bog!

Ample Make This Bed. Make This Bed With Awe; In It Wait Till Judgment Break Excellent And Fair. Be Its Mattress Straight, Be Its Pillow Round; Let No Sunrise’ Yellow Noise Interrupt This Ground.

I Tasted Life.

Love Is Anterior To Life, Posterior To Death, Initial Of Creation, And The Exponent Of Breath.

After Great Pain, A Formal Feeling Comes — The Nerves Sit Ceremonious, Like Tombs — The Stiff Heart Questions Was It He, That Bore, And Yesterday, Or Centuries Before? The Feet, Mechanical, Go Round — Of Ground, Or Air, Or Ought — A Wooden Way Regardless Grown, A Quartz Contentment, Like A Stone — This Is The Hour Of Lead — Remembered, If Outlived, As Freezing Persons, Recollect The Snow — First — Chill — Then Stupor — Then The Letting Go —