The dying need but little dear,

sun up, graveyard, sun through trees
 
Here is a short poem from Emily that says so much.

 

#1026

The Dying need but little, Dear,

A Glass of Water’s all,

A Flower’s unobtrusive Face

To punctuate the Wall,

 

A Fan, perhaps, a Friend’s Regret

And Certainty that one

No color in the Rainbow

Perceive, when you are gone.

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