The Bone That Has No Marrow;

A poem by Emily Dickinson

The bone that has no marrow;
What ultimate for that?
It is not fit for table,
For beggar, or for cat.

A bone has obligations,
A being has the same;
A marrowless assembly
Is culpabler than shame.

But how shall finished creatures
A function fresh obtain? --
Old Nicodemus' phantom
Confronting us again!

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'The Bone That Has No Marrow;' by Emily Dickinson

comments powered by Disqus