by David Williams
I wonder if what Emily Dickinson saw
Outside her blinds was ever just too bad
To even write about, or if she had to draw
From her remote experience with sad.
While that old angle worm showed little mercy
And buzzing flies could be the death of her,
One wonders what suggested all this worry
About deep things that have no godly answer.
She was not some persnickety old spinster
Locked way back in a room of no desire;
Symbolically, there was a minister
Who filled her heart in ways that did inspire
At least a few of her own tiny sermons
To stand the test of time for generations
David L Williams is recently retired from 34 years teaching high school English in Lincoln, Nebraska, his residence since going to college there in the 80s. For inspiration, he enjoys sitting on the two steps leading down to their patio and looking out back. More at http://classwords.com .