| Emily Dickinson | |
One Day is there of the Series Termed Thanksgiving Day. Celebrated part at Table Part in Memory. Neither Patriarch nor Pussy I dissect the Play Seems it to my Hooded thinking Reflex Holiday. Had there been no sharp Subtraction From the early Sum — Not an Acre or a Caption Where was once a Room — Not a Mention, whose small Pebble Wrinkled any Sea, Unto Such, were such Assembly ’Twere Thanksgiving Day. |