Read more poems by Emily Dickinson: Emily Dickinson Poems at Poetry X.
272 I breathed enough to take the Trick— And now, removed from Air— I simulate the Breath, so well— That One, to be quite sure— The Lungs are stirless—must descend Among the Cunning Cells— And touch the Pantomine—Himself, How numb, the Bellows feels!
Added: 19 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 11 Oct 2008 10:27 PM | Viewed: 5354 times
A custom PoetryNotes™ eBook may be ordered for this poem. Get help with your homework - delivered in 5-6 days.
For more information...