Emily Dickinson

(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)

I went to heaven,--


I went to heaven,--
'T was a small town,
Lit with a ruby,
Lathed with down.
Stiller than the fields
At the full dew,
Beautiful as pictures
No man drew.
People like the moth,
Of mechlin, frames,
Duties of gossamer,
And eider names.
Almost contented
I could be
'Mong such unique
Society.

Submitted: Tuesday, May 15, 2001

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