Emily Dickinson is Jewish and hides in an attic.
Restriction and Emily’s selective nomadic soul breed
Speculation. She misses bees, frogs, familiar sovereign woods.
She squints at dust, the Oriental carpet, a creaking plank.
Emily won’t abandon Death’s carriage.
She knows doors slam shut on his train.
Austin’s wife Sue stows bread crusts
And the children’s laughter
For her Jew-in-white.
Emily could die here or be captured,
Muslin’s soft scratch on the desk
Loud as clicked boot heels.
Emily Dickinson is forced from this attic.
Faint breath and her thin tongue.
Stanzas lapped in smoke.
Poems as long as one letter, rise.
'Muslin’s soft scratch on the desk Loud as clicked boot heels.' fabulous line from a fine poem; the title made me smile.. my mama hid in an attic in 1945 ~kelly
Loud as clicked boot heels, THIS IS A GREAT LINE, REALLY, NICE POEM.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i liked 'creaking plank' ('and somewhere a plank in reason broke') . Interesting take. Equating ED to Anne Franck? Each lived in an elaborate world within their imagination, neither got noticed until after they'd left this plain, neither will be soon forgotten. Very nice. CJGM