Daily Emily Dickinson

poems | source | simple

· · ·

                IX.

A train went through a burial gate,
A bird broke forth and sang,
And trilled, and quivered, and shook his throat
Till all the churchyard rang;

And then adjusted his little notes,
And bowed and sang again.
Doubtless, he thought it meet of him
To say good-by to men.


            
Tuesday, September 22, 2026
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