Friday Morning with Miss Em

I stopped today to say hello

and though I knew that you were gone,

I lingered by the empty drive

and strolled a moment on your lawn.

I wondered how it was back then

when horse drawn buggy was the mode

of transportation for these parts,

as cars align this busy road.

Did you find contentment here,

 was it a prison or retreat?

Perhaps that’s why the writing came,

the words you penned made you complete.

Oh, would that I could speak with you!

Would conversation be in vain?

To understand this world you knew

where women had to show restraint.

You laid the stonework, paved the way

for others who would deem to write.

I hear your words inside my head

while I walk this revered site

The time has come for me to leave,

I bid adieu, Miss Emily;

for all the writers that I know,
I thank you for your poetry.

© Ginny Brannan 2018

Image by author: Emily Dickinson home, Amherst, MA