Read "It can't be Summer, -- that Got through" by Emily Dickinson online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
It can't be summer, -- that got through; / It 's early yet for spring; / There 's that long town of white to cross / Before the blackbirds sing.
It can't be dying, -- it's too rouge, -- / The dead shall go in white.
So sunset shuts my question down / With clasps of chrysolite.