Not even God can heal; For ‘t is his institution, — The complement of hell. - Emily Dickinson

It's all i have to bring today
this and my heart beside
this and my heart and all the fields
and all the meadows wide
be sure to count
should i forget
someone the sum could tell
this and my heart and all the bees
which in the clovers dwell

What inn is this
Where for the night
Peculiar traveller comes?
Who is the landlord?
Where are the maids?
Behold, what curious rooms!
No ruddy fires on the hearth,
No brimming tankards flow.
Necromancer, landlord,
Who are these below?

Perhaps I asked too large — I take — no less than skies — For Earths, grow thick as
Berries, in my native town — My Basket holds — just — Firmaments — Those — dangle easy — on my arm,
But smaller bundles — Cram.