simple reasons for shunning.
her letters "shut the door.like stone"

unmoved, my attention slips, loosens her braid-
while sharp nips clip my breast so often exposed
my pride beside dormant dandelions

"dear friend, if fame belong to me i could not escape it."

nothing left to rebel, keepers exact stillness,
half dying, half to privilege, except the heaps of snow
my hands are cold. "dear master" this enormous isolation
collects dust, collects many before even i know
it is not me not yet not soon not half of God breathes

oh emily your two thousand white poems laid open "to be adequate."
alabaster. page petals burn, more through less. fingers branch
front door. the way august opens it's arms, "pure and terrible"

when summer falls alone beside maple tree orchestra
the red yellow greens disappear

single leaf dangles byzantine chain of lilacs and velum