She Lay As If At Play Poem by Emily Dickinson
She Lay As If At Play
369
She lay as if at play
Her life had leaped away—
Intending to return—
But not so soon—
Her merry Arms, half dropt—
As if for lull of sport—
An instant had forgot—
The Trick to start—
Her dancing Eyes—ajar—
As if their Owner were
Still sparkling through
For fun—at you—
Her Morning at the door—
Devising, I am sure—
To force her sleep—
So light—so deep—
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12/4/2024 7:24:10 AM # 1.0.0
Perhaps this is the best offering of the question that baffles us when we face the death of a child.