Pandemic Poetry 3

Emily Dickinson (1830-1886), the great metaphysical poet and literary recluse, voluntarily sheltered in place and treasured her solitude. What greater source of inspiration for surviving the times? During "stay home" order there will be frequent posts from her work, along with updating in the service of preserving sanity (and for which I know her lyrical spirit will forgive me!). So check back often, and feel free to join in this irreverent project.

I'm nobody! Who are you?

Are you nobody, too?
Then there's a pair of us- don't tell!
They'd banish us, you know.

How drear to be somebody!
How public, like a frog
To tell your name the livelong day
To an admiring bog!
                                  -Dickinson
                           

I'm anonymous, you too?
Shmatahs don't reveal who's who!
They cover the face, leave only the eyes,
it's so damn hard to recognize (anyone)!

Once 'twas fun to share your "hi!"
& greet each one by name-
mysterious souls now nod "hello" ( who are they??)-
Honestly, it's not the same.                                                    
                                                  -Storyweaver