Little Blues Packets

Thomas Wentworth Higginson reported Dickinson’s comments about sweets in a letter to his wife: “‘People must have puddings’ this [was said] very dreamily, as if they were comets—so she makes them” (L342a) http://www.emilydickinsonmuseum.org/book/export/html/44

Once Emily had died, her sister found

The stash made up of Immortality,

Of life, and death, and God, and gravestone ground

All heaped together in formality

And quaintness, fey tangential thinking, love

And plants, and baking all preserved and true

In quiet fascicles.  The tongues above

Each one were cloven, and their heat, see through,

Opaque, and clear at once were what she left

Behind, Infinity in pockets, wrapped

In Solitude by white-gloved hands, the heft

Of poetry by lonely fingers trapped.

The whole was only fragile paper, thread

And ink, and hidden passions crimped with dread.