WHEN she died the world carried on
some knew and bled others fled
some stood instead but the ladies
hearing she’d passed cried
wishing they’d be the one to
greet her on the other side
these beautiful souls wore red
and some pink thinking bees
Emily wrote to the world
who never wrote her back
and finally one day by the door
a carriage stopped just for her
and they rode down a gravel road
and some in orange dresses
and some always in red
When finally the world heard
her voice she was already
buried and poetry is much the
richer by her.
:: 12242015 ::
E.P. Robles | Poetry 