Emily Dickinson


Facts by our side are never sudden
Until they look around
And then they scare us like a spectre
Protruding from the Ground —

The height of our portentous Neighbor
We never know —
Till summoned to his recognition
By an Adieu —

Adieu for whence
The sage cannot conjecture
The bravest die
As ignorant of their resumption
As you or I —