369
She lay as if at play
Her life had leaped away—
Intending to return—
But not so soon—
Her merry Arms, half dropt—
As if for lull of sport—
An instant had forgot—
The Trick to start—
Her dancing Eyes—ajar—
As if their Owner were
Still sparkling through
For fun—at you—
Her Morning at the door—
Devising, I am sure—
To force her sleep—
So light—so deep—
Back to Emily Dickinson
To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.
Comments1I remember reading this Emily Dickinson poem when I was younger. It's interesting how her imagery captures the playfulness of life and death.