A Researcher Comments On Emily Dickinson
They were stuffed into her bureau,
White lights rarely ever seen.
Handmade by a brilliant woman,
Whose touch was soft with all.
Stitched by a mind, the best, a find,
Who made them all for free,
And clothed her image in
Hindsight with fondest mystery.
such dainty pearls, the linen laid,
(And some in satin dew),
Answer the final question asked.
Her undies were white too.