Tom Simard

Poetry, Music, and Prose

The Forgotten Grave

The Forgotten Grave by Emily Dickinson
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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2 thoughts on “The Forgotten Grave

  1. Beautiful, as everything else by her. Thanks.

    Like

  2. My pleasure.

    It’s such a great poem, and for those who doubt there is perfection in verse, let them only look at the following to be convinced:

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

    Like

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