![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU2fj87yg5A1-T2qB6YFlaw7558jIBwyJkEZad0Zy_Zxt_LE88YCiV_v_92XxM3KTUAPUbbcXKFDQBWL3Pz5cziPNtZ0mL16FI1mXANhIfunA0tQyOtkoTF3WIZHTWugiNnoeByzAYnlY/s400/Screen+Shot+2016-04-29+at+11.23.39+AM.png) |
In this short life / that only merely lasts an hour / How much - how / little - is / within our / power |
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEig1b_cN5ZaD8B-r-MBGsOMk91f_NusthTAstZ-ZVdz3FJnA7sXtuPFvf-DsTjv_lsghYD_L7OolMkX_NUA9gb51_af0wFtTxzIqCpCfIejrlGxw5RhKTFzbb1Anljeo9sUoXyGB_JloSo/s400/Screen+Shot+2016-04-29+at+11.25.52+AM.png) |
There are those / who are shallow / intentionally / and only / profound / by / accident |
![](https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0Mqi2rysbtftFATTVMzeNF5XAKTq5fjIgW2-_JbhU81xD3eis6iKO9ukOAGFo62MSiYE81c5GaP55h7mdPAxFLJZ_tm5SddhKm_JmH4A8poKcTQfmk9k-CB2P3DJziWwKf4xMhKssKtU/s400/Screen+Shot+2016-04-29+at+11.26.38+AM.png) |
As there are / apartments in our / own minds that / we never enter / without apology / we should respect / the seals of / others |
If you can't tell by some of my recent posts, I've been slowly, tentatively revisiting writers I loved when I was younger. My mother had a book of Emily Dickinson's collected poetry and every now and again while snooping around her room I'd take the book from the shelf and read a randomly chosen poem. I didn't "get" any of it at the time, but later, in high school, I'd read her poems and feel the air rushing out of my lungs. To close out what I guess is National Poetry Month in the U.S., here's a few of her envelope flap poems which have been collected in
The Gorgeous Nothings.
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