Bonus video poetry reading… if this doesn’t load properly you can find it here. https://youtu.be/g2IEyfFN2Qg

It Was Not Death, For I Stood Up,
By Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

It was not Death, for I stood up,

And all the Dead, lie down –

It was not Night, for all the Bells

Put out their Tongues, for Noon.

It was not Frost, for on my Flesh

I felt Siroccos – crawl –

Nor Fire – for just my marble feet

Could keep a Chancel, cool –

And yet, it tasted, like them all,

The Figures I have seen

Set orderly, for Burial

Reminded me, of mine –

As if my life were shaven,

And fitted to a frame,

And could not breathe without a key,

And ’twas like Midnight, some –

When everything that ticked – has stopped –

And space stares – all around –

Or Grisly frosts – first Autumn morns,

Repeal the Beating Ground –

But most, like Chaos – Stopless – cool –

Without a Chance, or spar –

Or even a Report of Land –

To justify – Despair.

Portraits of artist Jennifer Weigel and poet Emily Dickinson side by side