From THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF EMILY DICKINSON

1

I've run to welcome—Absence—
To greet—a closing Door—
And followed after—Echoes—
Footsteps—
Still recede—before—

A Mountain or a Desert—
Were easier—to arrest—
Than embrace a—Flickering—
As it vanishes—

To try to apprehend a—Phantom
Exacts exhausting Toil—
Nature abhors a Vacuum—I'll
Avoid—a Void


2

Christ must love you—I must not—
My white Calvary—be—
Perfect like That—without the Spot
Of sad Carnality—

Lepers—God enjoins—in Love—
Law casts out—Unclean—
"Vox Populi Vox Dei"
Festers in Irony— 

3

Before—a Plank between two Cliffs—

Below—revolves the Abyss—

Behind me—Clouds—that mourn and lower—

Into Eternities—

Horizons of wide Silence—List—
As—less than Decimal—
I feel the Universe—lean down—
To watch—when I shall fall—