Emily Dickinson

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

I Was The Slightest In The House - Poem by Emily Dickinson

486

I was the slightest in the House—
I took the smallest Room—
At night, my little Lamp, and Book—
And one Geranium—

So stationed I could catch the Mint
That never ceased to fall—
And just my Basket—
Let me think—I'm sure—
That this was all—

I never spoke—unless addressed—
And then, 'twas brief and low—
I could not bear to live—aloud—
The Racket shamed me so—

And if it had not been so far—
And any one I knew
Were going—I had often thought
How noteless—I could die—


Comments about I Was The Slightest In The House by Emily Dickinson

  • (9/29/2015 8:23:00 PM)


    ..............a very intimate write, penned feelings from the heart...beautiful ★ (Report) Reply

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Read poems about / on: house, night



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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