It don’t sound so terrible—quite—as it did Emily Dickinson
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It don't sound so terrible—quite—as it did
I run it over—"Dead", Brain, "Dead."
Put it in Latin—left of my school
Seems it don't shriek so—under rule
Turn it, a little—full in the face
A Trouble looks bitterest
Shift it—just
Say "When Tomorrow comes this way
I shall have waded down one Day."
I suppose it will interrupt me some
Till I get accustomed—but then the Tomb
Like other new Things—shows largest—then
And smaller, by Habit
It's shrewder then
Put the Thought in advance—a Year
How like "a fit"—then
Murder—wear!
It don't sound so terrible—quite—as it did
I run it over—"Dead", Brain, "Dead."
Put it in Latin—left of my school
Seems it don't shriek so—under rule
Turn it, a little—full in the face
A Trouble looks bitterest
Shift it—just
Say "When Tomorrow comes this way
I shall have waded down one Day."
I suppose it will interrupt me some
Till I get accustomed—but then the Tomb
Like other new Things—shows largest—then
And smaller, by Habit
It's shrewder then
Put the Thought in advance—a Year
How like "a fit"—then
Murder—wear!
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