Emily Dickinson

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

If I Shouldn'T Be Alive - Poem by Emily Dickinson

182

If I shouldn't be alive
When the Robins come,
Give the one in Red Cravat,
A Memorial crumb.

If I couldn't thank you,
Being fast asleep,
You will know I'm trying
Why my Granite lip!


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Read poems about / on: red, thanks



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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