Emily Dickinson

Photo by Wendy Maeda/The Boston Globe via Getty Images

I remember first meeting her

When I was young without a care.

Memories have begun to blur—

Like faded ink, or long lost prayer—

But not the thoughts I with her share.

I think to myself now and then

If I fathomed what I saw there.

I wish I knew her better then.

 

As a child I thought I was sure

   Of all there was in life to bear.

   Thoughts of death or sinful pleasure

   To cross my mind would never dare.

   I look back now at hints so rare

   And listen again and again

   To her words as they through me tear.

   I wish I knew her better then.

 

   Now I have begun to know her.

   To some degree, her thoughts I share.

   The tumults of her mind occur

   In my mind too like some sick dare

   Of fate and fortune, evil pair.

   These thoughts inside have always been

   But it took years to be aware.

   I wish I knew her better then.

 

   I have her now when I despair,

   But, oh, how different it was when

   There were words without meaning there.

   I wish I knew her better then.