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Linda Pastan

(1932 - / New York / United States)

Emily Dickinson


We think of hidden in a white dress
among the folded linens and sachets
of well-kept cupboards, or just out of sight
sending jellies and notes with no address
to all the wondering Amherst neighbors.
Eccentric as New England weather
the stiff wind of her mind, stinging or gentle,
blew two half imagined lovers off.
Yet legend won't explain the sheer sanity
of vision, the serious mischief
of language, the economy of pain.

Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

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  • Rookie Mary Thornburg (6/11/2012 3:16:00 PM)

    The first line here leaves out a word; it should be We think of her hidden.... Lovely poem (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Jim Foulk (4/8/2007 2:02:00 PM)

    Linda you wrote a wonderful poem about my favorite poet, i think emily is one of the best, if not thee best poet ever. you did a great job on this one, a work of art. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie Gina Onyemaechi (2/6/2006 4:42:00 AM)

    I haven't read much of Emily Dickinson, but I like the little that I have read. A sterling tribute to her, I'd say. Delicious description. Regards. (Report) Reply

  • Rookie A. B. (2/3/2006 7:14:00 AM)

    Linda, this is a beautiful poem. Emily is one of my favourite poets and thanks for writing this poem.....

    Peace. (Report) Reply

Read all 8 comments »

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