Horses of eternity
Stand fetlock-still for Emily — her
Groom, the teamster Death is waiting.
Bright’s Disease enjoins the mating.
Eager for his long betrothéd –
Garments’ royal verse she clothéd
Him, her decades’ virgin’s pining —
Pine plank bedsheets be their linen.
Burn no manuscript for incense
Even at her own insistence!
Square church altar not the nuptial:
Buttercup’d mound their sepulchre.
Sister Livvie saves the verses —
Libbie’s inner universes —
Luminate the world-wide now,
Eclipse our theft-saved almost-curses!
Yet Bronte Emily stands to faint, to
Waft her life like fumes from paint; is
This your laugh, tuberculosis?
Sister knows a diagnosis.
Charlotte’s claim: for Emmie’s fame she
Touched the Heights’ sequel to flame. Yet
Buried siblings know no shame. Has
Char charred criticisms down? Or
Burned her own — a green-eyed gown?