I dwell in Possibility –
A fairer House than Prose –
More numerous of Windows –
Superior – for Doors –

The Spread of Town – could not confine
The mind – to a niche –
In the rear of the Gown –
Sits the Muse – on a Pompous Stave –

My neighbors – do not sing
Nor gallivant along the Way –
What then shall I invent
To play along – for Open Air

Like Russet Leaves –
Beneath a dark Rain –
There – built of sunlight,
They wear a Brighter Grain –

• Emily Dickinson