My sister Emily
My sister Emily
We have heard
We have heard, Dickinson
Secluded, a poet then unknown
Died not old, asked Vinnie “Please burn”
I’ve read her, never full, and will not ever do
Part by part, here-there, that maybe
But in her I have aunt and sister
Secluded was my aunt
In kidney my sister
I won’t burn
Memories will stay
On papers and systems
After heart, when I’m gone
Of her love no one knows; was it God?
Or the man senior, respected, but unnamed?
That’s my aunt, my mom’s aunt, a friend and teacher
But the letters, sister sewed, broidered leaves, roses, as alive
I miss them; they’re alive in poems and the life, Emily Dickinson’s
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