The Poets light but Lamps
BY EMILY DICKINSON
The Poets light but Lamps —
Themselves — go out —
The Wicks they stimulate
If vital Light
Inhere as do the Suns —
Each Age a Lens
Disseminating their
Circumference —
Poets
are
but themselves vital Sun
their wick
a circumference of age
A lens
colliding light
disseminating
time
abiding
