Christmas Poems: "Twas just this time"

Emily Dickinson

�Twas just this time, last year, I died. I know I heard the Corn, When I was carried by the Farms � It had the Tassels on � I thought how yellow it would look � When Richard went to mill � And then, I wanted to get out, But something held my will. I thought just how Red � Apples wedged The Stubble�s joints between � And the Carts stooping round the fields To take the Pumpkins in � I wondered which would miss me, least, And when Thanksgiving, came, If Father�d multiply the plates � To make an even Sum � And would it blur the Christmas glee My Stocking hang too high For any Santa Claus to reach The Altitude of me � But this sort, grieved myself, And so, I thought the other way, How just this time, some perfect year � Themself, should come to me �