Poemsby Emily Dickinson


 The only ghost I ever saw Was dressed in mechlin, - so; He wore no sandal on his foot, And stepped like flakes of snow. His gait was soundless, like the bird, But rapid, like the roe; His fashions quaint, mosaic, Or, haply, mistletoe. 
 His conversation seldom, His laughter like the breeze That dies away in dimples Among the pensive trees. Our interview was transient,- Of me, himself was shy; And God forbid I look behind Since that appalling day!