Daily Dickinson
A daily poem from the complete works of Emily Dickinson.
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‹ DEATH AND LIFE. • INDIAN SUMMER. ›
September 9, 2007 in Nature, Poems | No comments
‘T WAS later when the summer went Than when the cricket came, And yet we knew that gentle clock Meant nought but going home.
‘T was sooner when the cricket went Than when the winter came, Yet that pathetic pendulum Keeps esoteric time.
Tags: summer, winter
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