THough I am not Emily Dickinson
I fathom what she might say of a nut.
Its Cavernous soliloquy compact
A library of cabinets of books
They form two walls between the mind to climb
A tree of Pixels bent in circle Eyes.
What I saw there looked back at me kind kin
Surrounded with the odd amusement Sin.
Departs the silence that becomes music
Harbored in eternal sanctuary
All for hope of mystery bound and born
In simple oval resonant chambers.
that harder than the heart the head beheld
to commit to penance an example.
(ROUGH DRAFT Ode to E.D.)
I fathom what she might say of a nut.
Its Cavernous soliloquy compact
A library of cabinets of books
They form two walls between the mind to climb
A tree of Pixels bent in circle Eyes.
What I saw there looked back at me kind kin
Surrounded with the odd amusement Sin.
Departs the silence that becomes music
Harbored in eternal sanctuary
All for hope of mystery bound and born
In simple oval resonant chambers.
that harder than the heart the head beheld
to commit to penance an example.
(ROUGH DRAFT Ode to E.D.)
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