Emily Dickinson...

...might have loved living in the age of social media. I've always loved Emily Dickinson's uncompromising style and among the selection of her poems in The Penguin Book of American Verse (1983) is the typically short and acutely observed 'The Soul selects her own Society', the last line of which reads -

I've known her -- from an ample nation --
Choose One --
Then -- close the Valves of her attention --
Like Stone --

 and in 'There's a certain Slant of light' she writes,

There's a certain Slant of light,
Winter Afternoons --
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes --

 and concludes

When it comes,the Landscape listens --
Shadows -- hold their breath --
When it goes,'tis like the Distance
On the look of Death --

 Dickinson made every word count. She may have over-used the 'dash' and her capital letters may look quaint but her voice is distinctive and sings down the years. I can only imagine her formidable success as a blogger or Twitter-user or as she would say...

Success is counted sweetest
By those who ne'er succeed.
To comprehend a nectar
Requires sorest need.




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