I was the slightest in the House--
I took the smallest Room--
At night, my little Lamp, and Book--
And one Geranium
So stationed I could catch the mint
That never ceased to fall--
And just my Basket--
Let me think-- I'm sure
That this was all--
I never spoke-- unless addressed--
And then, 'twas brief and low--
I could not bear to live-- aloud--
The Racket shamed me so--
And if it had not been so far--
And any one I knew
Were going-- I had often thought
How noteless-- I could die--
(F 473)
working on my thoughts on this one... back later with commentary.
Sunday, November 8, 2009
I was the slightest in the House
Labels:
death,
I was the slightest in the House,
life,
microcosm,
smallness
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