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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 11, Poema 34
XXXIV.
Extra
was
the
sun
When
the
best
is
gone;
He
was
extra
every
day,
For
every
day
is
said
That
word
whose
faith
Just
saves
it
from
despair,
And
whose
'I'll
meet
you'
stops
If
love
asks,
'Where?'
Upon
his
timeless
fame
Our
times
may
lie,
As
stars
that
drop
without
name
From
a
big
sky.
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