After a hundred years

After a hundred years
Nobody knows the place,--
Agony, that enacted there,
Motionless as peace.

Weeds triumphant ranged,
Strangers strolled and spelled
At the lone orthography
Of the elder dead.

Winds of summer fields
Recollect the way,--
Instinct picking up the key
Dropped by memory.

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Emily Dickinson

Emily Elizabeth Dickinson was an American poet. more…

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"After a hundred years by Emily Dickinson" Poetry.net. STANDS4 LLC, 2019. Web. 17 Jan. 2019. <https://www.poetry.net/poem/11478>.

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