Ode to Emily Dickinson


I thought to write some poetry
and then the mood did pass
and so I thought of
fairy tales
hair spun gold
and castles old
of knights in shining armour
and roman statuettes
of kind and noble faces
staring off in space
toward all or none
they moved with grace
and then died young
their passing still is poignant
like grapes so ripe to taste
the shorter life, the sweeter
the memory will linger
I read about your life
and think about the way it was
like a picture right in front of me
a beginning and an end
unlike mine that spills
before me
not so noble, not so noble
out into the garden
your cup of tea looks cold to me
let me warm it up for you
and walk with you to sunlit stream
and listen to your story.

2/27/2005

Thinking of Eileen and the statues in NY museum