Emily Dickinson Pulls an All Nighter
Some write Essays - days ahead -
I - write them - cloaked - in Fear!
With a "Bull of Red" - become my Muse,
The Harshest Judge, my mirror -
Some finish papers - quietly -
I rail - in unknown Tongues -
The clock - decrees my Destiny -
I - much regret what was!
Past nights - Blurred with lime and salt
Past days - a snow White screen
The Keys, did not - press down Themselves -
Was it - so wrong - to Dream?
Oh Christ! - Could thou, not come back now?
Death - Could thou - carry me to peace?
Heaven would - more welcome be -
Than this desk's eternity -
The Pillow mocks - effectively -
The Blanket hums - his song
But instead - of dreaming - in my bed
I'll be working - all night long!