EMILY DICKINSON 1830 – 1886
I’m Nobody! Who are you?
Are you – Nobody – too?
Then there’s a pair of us!
Don’t tell! they’d advertise – you know!
How dreary – to be – Somebody!
How public – like a Frog –
To tell one’s name – the livelong June –
To an admiring Bog!
A thought went up my mind to-day
That I have had before,
But did not finish, – some way back
I could not fix the year,
Nor where it went, nor why it came
The second time to me,
Nor definitely what it was,
Have I the art to say.
But somewhere in my soul, I know
I’ve met the thing before;
It just reminded me- ‘t was all-
And came my way no more.
“Music begins to atrophy when it departs too far from the dance….
Poetry begins to atrophy when it gets too far from the music.”