It Can'T Be "Summer"! - Poem by Emily Dickinson
It can't be "Summer"!
It's early—yet—for "Spring"!
There's that long town of White—to cross—
Before the Blackbirds sing!
It can't be "Dying"!
It's too Rouge—
The Dead shall go in White—
So Sunset shuts my question down
With Cuffs of Chrysolite!
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Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
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Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye