FIRST FLEDGE

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We can but follow to the Sun –

As oft as He go down

He leave Ourselves a Sphere behind –

‘Tis mostly – following –

We go no further with the Dust

Than to the Earthen Door –

And then the Panels are reversed –

And we behold – no more.

c. 1864

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If it had no pencil

Would it try mine –

Worn – now – and dull – sweet,

Writing much to thee.

If it had no word,

Would it make the Daisy,

Most as big as I was,

When it plucked me?

c. 1864

Emily Dickinson

Photograph: Annie Leibovitz via Pilgrimage