[829] It dropped so low in my regard

Guest poem submitted by Caroline Mann, <cemann@>:

It dropped so low in my regard
I heard it hit the ground,
And go to pieces on the stones
At the bottom of my mind;

Yet blamed the fate that fractured, less
Than I reviled myself
For entertaining plated wares
Upon my silver shelf.

	-- Emily Dickinson

This is one of my favorite poems because of the thought expressed. I love
the
inherent ambiguity and the powerful resolution. It is a perfect example of
Dickinson's strong ability to express intangible ideas with physical and
metaphorical imagery. She turns abstractions into overcoming inventions.
Suddenly, self-delusion becomes a crashing plate; the reader can just hear
the
shattering regret. Of course, this is only my vision; the poem is highly
interpretational.

As with most of Dickinson's work, this poem is condensed truth. Her rhythm
is
flawless, and the diction is beyond accurate. Dickinson was known to obsess
over word choice. Mostly, I love her for her complexity, possessing quietude

and urgency all at once. She is a truly magnificent poet.

Caroline.

[Minstrels Links]

Emily Dickinson:
Poem #92, There's a certain Slant of light
Poem #174, A Route of Evanescence
Poem #341, The Grass so little has to do -
Poem #458, The Chariot
Poem #529, If you were coming in the fall
Poem #580, Split the Lark
Poem #687, Success is counted sweetest
Poem #711, I'm Nobody! Who are you?