To Emily Dickinson

by JOHN MOFFITT

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?