New Brighton State Beach, CA, and Emily Dickinson

Going to Heaven!
I don’t know when —
Pray do not ask me how!



Indeed I’m too astonished
To think of answering you!
Going to Heaven!
How dim it sounds!


And yet it will be done
As sure as flocks go home at night
Unto the Shepherd’s arm!

Perhaps you’re going too!
Who knows?

If you should get there first
Save just a little space for me
Close to the two I lost —


The smallest “Robe” will fit me
And just a bit of “Crown” —
For you know we do not mind our dress
When we are going home —

I’m glad I don’t believe it
For it would stop my breath —

And I’d like to look a little more
At such a curious Earth!



I’m glad they did believe it
Whom I have never found
Since the might Autumn afternoon
I left them in the ground.

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