They dropped like flakes, they dropped like stars,
Like petals from a rose,
When suddenly across the June
A wind with fingers goes.
They perished in the seamless grass, --
No eye could find the place;
But God on his repealless list
Can summon every face.
The Battle-field.
Emily Elizabeth Dickinson
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Poem topics: god, june, rose, wind, grass, place, face, suddenly, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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