Emily Dickinson (1830-1866)
In her isolation
For it is there
She dreams
And in expressions
It seems
For in a lifetime
We could never interpret
The Civil war crimes
Passionate ink spreads with mystery
In a time of such history
Unique is her style
Her words
Beguile
With “Capital” punctuation
For her formation
And true imagery that indulges the mind
Here you will find
She has chosen but a way
Many other poets couldn’t sway
And so it wasn’t until her
Death
Her work gave but a breath
Upon the published page
In the age
Of 1866
Where she was otherwise missed
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