Saturday, June 29, 2013

Poem 124

Above is the house in Amherst where Emily Dickinson lived. And below is a pure piece of self-indulgence because I stumbled across Dickinson's poem number 124, an old favorite that I had not thought of in a long while. For me, this poem is the marker-stone at the beginning of modern writing in America.


Safe in their Alabaster Chambers -
Untouched by Morning - 
and untouched by noon -
Sleep the meek members of the Resurrection, 
Rafter of Satin and Roof of Stone - 

Grand go the Years, 
In the Crescent above them -
Worlds scoop their Arcs - 
and Firmaments - row -
Diadems - drop -
And Doges surrender -
Soundless as Dots, 
On a Disk of Snow.