a handmade postcard depicting Dickinson, lost in thought, with a wren perched on her shoulder

Postcard verso: 

Dear Ms. Em, 

I’ll confess that when I 1st met you, 
I didn’t like you. Death, flies,
symbolism, spinsterhood…oh how my
high school teachers exalted in the 
bleak, the desolate, the alone. But
then one day…30 or 40 years later—
I came upon one of your poems
and found such joy, music,
life. And love. Over and over
again. An the breadth and depth
of you. Thank you. Thank you.
Thank you. Jennifer

Posted in Postcards to Emily.