Poems ✍️
  03.05.2025
  1

Author: Emily Dickinson

After A Hundred Years

After a hundred years
Nobody knows the place,--
Agony, that enacted there,
Motionless as peace.

Weeds triumphant ranged,
Strangers strolled and spelled
At the lone orthography
Of the elder dead.

Winds of summer fields
Recollect the way,--
Instinct picking up the key
Dropped by memory.


  Time oblivion memory Nature

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