Poems ✍️
  04.06.2025
  18

Author: Emily Dickinson

She Died At Play

75

She died at play,
Gambolled away
Her lease of spotted hours,
Then sank as gaily as a Turn
Upon a Couch of flowers.

Her ghost strolled softly o'er the hill
Yesterday, and Today,
Her vestments as the silver fleece—
Her countenance as spray.


  Death innocence Nature afterlife

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Take a look 👇

  In Falling Timbers Buried ᐈ
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