Emily Dickinson

You’Ll Know Her by Her Foot

poem 634

You’ll know Her by Her Foot The smallest Gamboge Hand With Fingers where the Toes should be Would more affront the Sand Than this Quaint Creature’s Boot Adjusted by a Stern Without a Button I could vouch Unto a Velvet Limb You’ll know Her by Her Vest Tight fitting Orange Brown Inside a Jacket duller She wore when she was born Her Cap is small and snug Constructed for the Winds She’d pass for Barehead short way off But as She Closer stands So finer ’tis than Wool You cannot feel the Seam Nor is it Clasped unto of Band Nor held upon of Brim You’ll know Her by Her Voice At first a doubtful Tone A sweet endeavor but as March To April hurries on She squanders on your Ear Such Arguments of Pearl You beg the Robin in your Brain To keep the other still

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