THE BAT - The bat is dun with wrinkled wings
The bat is dun with wrinkled wings / Like fallow article,
A BOOK - He ate and drank the precious words
❦
He ate and drank the precious words,
His spirit grew robust;
He knew no more that he was poor,
Nor that his frame was dust.
He danced along the dingy days,
And this bequest of wings
Was but a book. What liberty
A loosened spirit brings!
More poems by Emily Dickinson
GHOSTS
One need not be a chamber to be haunted, / One need not be a house;
I SEE thee better in the dark
I SEE thee better in the dark, / I do not need a light.
OUT OF THE MORNING - Will there really be a morning
Will there really be a morning? / Is there such a thing as day?