Color postcard of downtown Pittsburgh and rivers intersecting

The poets gather around the fire

Postcard verso:

Veronica Corpuz, Pittsburgh, PA.

Dear Emily,

When I am given the assignment to study a poem,
I study you and the lines of your heart
are cross-stitched into mine: To die
takes just a little while / They say
it doesn’t hurt. This poem lives in me
46 years and counting. I bring you
to the party on the last night in
the Valley. The poets gather around
the fire. I lift you into the circle’s
center — thinking of C.D., thinking
of Sharon under your bed, thinking
of my friends who sit beyond my closed eyes.
I forget the line: The absent mystic creature
What do you call a gathering of such beings?
Heaven, maybe. Yes, this is Heaven:
a brood of absent mystic creatures.
                                                                  Love, Veronica

Color postcard with text / Dickinson quote.


Postcard verso:


Tree houses of the Sky, perhaps,
these homes where dreamers dwell.

Breezes blow a lucent blue
passed walls of air our hosts pass through.

And if we hear the floorboards creak
from luminescent, cold bare feet,
and if the floor itself slant up
to reach the cupboard’s Common Cup,

no reason, law, or fear dictates
that one must move or sell.
We are the framers of this House
in which our tenant dreamers dwell


Happy Birthday, Emily,
Jesse Mavro Diamond

Color postcard with roses in vase

I consult you regularly

Postcard verso:

                      8 Nov 2019
Dear Miss Dickinson,
     Your work is as sacred to me
as the bible is to some – I consult
you regularly. I’ve been “teaching”
you for 25 years, which sometimes
feels a privilege sometimes a
                       Your scholar —
                       Gloria (last name?)

Postcard with house and smoke pluming out of chimney

sea washed

Postcard verso:

Dear Emily,

Your poems make me smile.

Thank you for writing a soft
sea washed around the
                      Aro   CT    age: 7

Colored postcard of moon over cityscape

This is my letter to the Belle

Postcard verso:

This is my letter to the Belle
Who never thought of Me —

The haunting Words that She
wrote down —
With tender Majesty

Her Message has transmitted
Across the Centuries —
For love of You — gentle Poet
Accept this thanks — from Me
                              -Kellie B.
                               Kansas City, MO

Postcard with memento mori collage


Postcard verso:

Dear Emily —
     Thank you for the
words that creep —
     That sleep —
         unfurl — then
                  fly —
To live —
           and live —
And never die.

Happy Birthday from
                              SARAH T*
#PostcardsToEmily #TheWorldWritesBack

Postcard with text between colored orbs eclipsed

circumference between

Postcard verso:

                                                 3 December 2019
Daisy – When you wrote We both and neither prove
I was displaced –

                Between null and void,
                As if we had never been within

                This ellipsis: first and final things –
                Name, use – change, lose – 

                If anything were – given – a way there
                Is – equal if opposite – difference

                Is what is not – the two coeval come
                Become noun, brittle accretion – 

And although one atom precipitates, and one dissolves –
instantly – I remain
                                        Your reader,
                                                                   G. Darms


Colored postcard from/of New York City

the abyss of a lantern

Postcard verso:

December 3rd, 2019

For Emily –
She is / dark but honest /
like center of sunflower /
with earl greys and
marbles / latticed and
severed / her circumference /
a suggestion – / takes
the shape / of secret
saturn / she dizzies / 
tumbles / the abyss of
                   a lantern

                Love, Madison

Postcard with birthday greetings, cottage, and natural scenery.


Postcard verso:

                      A PROTECTION OF PALMS

Centuries hold hands. Best to believe Miss Dickinson,
in her wish to work alone, but now she’s here—
my handwriting not too different from hers, our urge
to take dictation not dissimilar. Not a quaint thing—
a soul, nor out of date, that shared imagining,
holding of hands, hers so much smaller than mine,
but her palm so much stronger, the bones themselves,
as though God talked clearly then, a waterfall purely
falling. Friends were her words. I listen for mine.

                                                        —Christine Colasurdo

Postcard with ink illustration featuring a snowman, maple syrup, coffee, and symbols.

I know love lives here

Postcard verso:

snow     falls from t trees
tops. I know love lives here,
through the winter shimmer
joy comes to me

By Jubilee, Anthes

     age 7 <3