'Twas Warm—at First—like Us Poem by Emily Dickinson

'Twas Warm—at First—like Us

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'Twas warm—at first—like Us—
Until there crept upon
A Chill—like frost upon a Glass—
Till all the scene—be gone.

The Forehead copied Stone—
The Fingers grew too cold
To ache—and like a Skater's Brook—
The busy eyes—congealed—

It straightened—that was all—
It crowded Cold to Cold—
It multiplied indifference—
As Pride were all it could—

And even when with Cords—
'Twas lowered, like a Weight—
It made no Signal, nor demurred,
But dropped like Adamant.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Nick Capozzoli 07 January 2008

The second stanza is an appalling description of death.. Compare this poem to WC Williams 'To a Dead Journalist.'

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Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson

Amherst / Massachusetts
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