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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 12, Poema 58
LVIII.
RETROSPECT.
It
was
just
this
time
last
year
I
died.
I
remember
hearing
the
corn,
When
I
was
carried
past
the
farms,
—
It
had
the
tassels
on.
I
thought
how
golden
it
would
appear
When
Richard
went
to
mill;
And
then
I
wanted
to
escape,
But
something
held
my
will.
I
imagined
how
red
apples
wedged
Between
the
stubble's
joints;
And
carts
stooped
around
the
fields
To
gather
the
pumpkins
in.
I
wondered
who
would
miss
me
least,
And
when
Thanksgiving
came,
If
father
would
add
more
plates
To
make
an
even
sum.
And
if
my
stocking
hung
too
high,
Would
it
dim
the
Christmas
joy,
That
no
Santa
Claus
could
reach
The
altitude
of
me?
But
this
kind
of
thought
grieved
me,
so
I
pondered
how
it
would
be
When
just
this
time,
some
perfect
year,
They
themselves
should
come
to
me.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — C1 Inglés | Cuentana