Emily...Eventually Poem by moon batchelder

perhaps and when her third event
had purposed to come nearer,
and seeing form and substance spent
before her in the mirror;

she set aside the pens she'd use
for writing daily verses,
and granted respite from her muse
and such as prose rehearses;

took needle to those pages filled
and thread to softly bind them.
that once her heart and flesh were stilled
somebody else might find them,

and give them being beyond her breath.
for life, as brief as laughter,
subsists until relieved by death.
-she left us something after!