Death sets a Thing significant
The Eye had hurried by
Except a perished Creature
Entreat us tenderly
To ponder little Workmanships
In Crayon, or in Wool,
With "This was last Her fingers did"—
Industrious until—
The Thimble weighed too heavy—
The stitches stopped—by themselves—
And then 'twas put among the Dust
Upon the Closet shelves—
A Book I have—a friend gave—
Whose Pencil—here and there—
Had notched the place that pleased Him—
At Rest—His fingers are—
Now—when I read—I read not—
For interrupting Tears—
Obliterate the Etchings
Too Costly for Repairs.
Back to Emily Dickinson
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓
To be able to leave a comment here you must be registered. Log in or Sign up.
Comments1Just read this Emily Dickinson piece, kinda heavy stuff. She talks about "ponder little Workmanships In Crayon, or in Wool," Makes you stop and think about all the small things we miss, ya know? Not sure if she's talking about someone specific or just general idea? Anyway, really got me thinkin'. Love to hear others thoughts on this.