Here you will find the Poem Emily Dickinson of poet Linda Pastan
We think of hidden in a white dress among the folded linens and sachets of well-kept cupboards, or just out of sight sending jellies and notes with no address to all the wondering Amherst neighbors. Eccentric as New England weather the stiff wind of her mind, stinging or gentle, blew two half imagined lovers off. Yet legend won't explain the sheer sanity of vision, the serious mischief of language, the economy of pain.