Whose Cheek Is This?


Whose cheek is this?
What rosy face
Has lost a blush today?
I found her—"pleiad"—in the woods
And bore her safe away.

Robins, in the tradition
Did cover such with leaves,
But which the cheek—
And which the pall
My scrutiny deceives.

by Emily Dickinson

Comments (1)

A beautifully conceived short and sweet poem with smooth flow and rich in rhyme and rhythm.