18 Morns like these we parted

Written summer 1858. Something I love about her poetry is the potential for meaning – this isn’t unique to ED, of course. Here she speaks of a bird, but it could be a friend, a lover – anyone. I might read this differently now than I would have a year ago, and no two people will have identical readings. I love that. Enjoy –

Morns like these – we parted
Noons like these – she rose!
Fluttering first – then firmer
To her fair repose –
Never did she lisp it
And ’twas not for me
She was mute for transport
I, for agony!
Till the evening nearing
One the shutters drew –
Quick! a sharper rustling!
And this linnet flew!

[Emily Dickinson]

Rest well –

signature