The Single Hound: Poems of a Lifetime by Emily Dickinson, Martha Dickinson Bianchi

Too Cold Is This

TOO cold is this To warm with sun, Too stiff to bended be, To joint this agate were a feat Outstaring masonry. How went the agile kernel out– Contusion of the husk, Nor rip, nor wrinkle indicate,– But just an Asterisk.

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