I Felt a Funeral

in My Brain

Emily

Dickenson

I felt a Funeral, in my Brain,

And Mourners to and fro
Kept treading - treading -
till it seemed
 That Sense was breaking through -


And when they all were seated,

A Service, like a Drum - 
Kept beating - beating -
till I thought
My mind was going numb -


And then I heard them lift a Box

And creak across my Soul

With those same Boots of Lead, again,

Then Space - began to toll,

As all the Heavens were a Bell,

And Being, but an Ear,

And I, and Silence, some strange Race,

Wrecked, solitary, here -


And then a Plank in Reason, broke,

And I dropped down, and down -

And hit a World, at every plunge,

And Finished knowing - then -