By force of her imagination and skill, Emily Dickinson could take the measure of solitude, opprobrium and even damnation.

for I too take my bearings in a manner unfamiliar to solid daylit creatures

I lean into the gale

call it brave, call it saintly, call it love

I could never make a meal of skate again remembering you, brave wingless thing.

To God, who gives joy to my youth. Say it! Say it now...