To Emily Dickinson

CANDID heart,
Too inward to be bold,
Drawn apart
From a thorny world —
Taking leave
Of your twisted lot,
Did you receive
The sacrament you sought ?
Did a voice,
Across the darkened air,
Seal the choice
Your vision ventured here,
Or were you still,
As death immured your eyes,
Waiting the call
That countermands surmise?