#280 ◎Emily Dickinson

I felt a funeral, in My Brain And Mourners to and fro Kept treading - treading - till it seemed That sense was breaking through And when they all were seated, A Service, like a Drum - Kept beating - beating till I thought My Mind was going numb - And then I heard them lift a Box And creak across my Soul With those same Boots of Lead, again Then Space - began to toll, As all the Heavens were a Bell And Being, but an Ear, And I, and Silence, some strange Race Wrecked, solitary, here - And then a Plank in Reason, broke, And I dropped down, and down And hit a world, at every Plunge, And Finished knowing - then -