Where does the good go

This poem seemed apropos…

given that I am dying of coveting:

Hunger by Emily Dickinson

I had been hungry all the years;
My noon had come, to dine;
I, trembling, drew the table near,
And touched the curious wine.

‘T was this on tables I had seen,
When turning, hungry, lone,
I looked in windows, for the wealth
I could not hope to own.

I did not know the ample bread,
‘T was so unlike the crumb
The birds and I had often shared
In Nature’s dining-room.

The plenty hurt me, ‘t was so new,
Myself felt ill and odd,
As berry of a mountain bush
Transplanted to the road.

Nor was I hungry; so I found
That hunger was a way
Of persons outside windows,
The entering takes away.

2 Responses to “This poem seemed apropos…”

  1. Mary Says:

    I quickly read “dying of everything” then proceeded to the poem. I thought, “what does this poem have to do with hypochondria?” Went back and saw the word was coveting, and then I laughed.

  2. Dawn Summers Says:


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