Emily Dickinson

We pray—to Heaven—

489
 
We pray—to Heaven—
We prate—of Heaven—
Relate—when Neighbors die—
At what o’clock to heaven—they fled—
Who saw them—Wherefore fly?
 
Is Heaven a Place—a Sky—a Tree?
Location’s narrow way is for Ourselves—
Unto the Dead
There’s no Geography—
 
But State—Endowal—Focus—
Where&m dash;Omnipresence—fly?
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