Emily Dickinson

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

Midsummer, Was It, When They Died - Poem by Emily Dickinson

962

Midsummer, was it, when They died—
A full, and perfect time—
The Summer closed upon itself
In Consummated Bloom—

The Corn, her furthest kernel filled
Before the coming Flail—
When These—leaned unto Perfectness—
Through Haze of Burial—


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Read poems about / on: summer, time



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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