Herb Wolf


Dear Emily


A woman before your time;
I gaze for hours upon hours
at the vast grey sky;

distant brown rock, hard and cold
in the distance, supports a white tower,
an isolated light house.

It was as if your soul rests there
observing from afar a part of you that’s gone forever.

That is your voice,
your words remain
in the literary room.
You were a poet before your time.

Silence accompanies the roar of the ocean.
The lighthouse beckons all who care to listen.



Herb Wolf, III
Emily Dickinson
Room
Sylvia’s Hotel
Newport, Oregon
11/27/99

Submitted: Friday, February 06, 2009
Edited: Friday, February 06, 2009

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