This plot of ground
 facing the waters of this inlet
 is dedicated to the living presence of
 Emily Dickinson Wellcome
 who was born in England; married;
 her five year old son
 sailed for New York in a two-master;
 was driven to the Azores;
 ran adrift on fire Island shoal,
 met her second husband
 in a Brooklyn boarding house,
 went with him to Puerto Rico
 bore three more children, lost
 her second husband, lived hard
 for eight years in St. Thomas,
 Puerto Rico, San Domingo, followed
 the oldest son to New York,
 lost her daughter, lost her "baby,"
 seized the two boys of
 the oldest son by the second marriage
 mothered them—they being
 motherless—fought for them
 against the other grandmother
 and the aunts, brought them here
 summer after summer, defended
 herself here against thieves,
 storms, sun, fire,
 against flies, against girls
 that came smelling about, against
 drought, against weeds, storm-tides,
 neighbors, weasels that stole her chickens,
 against the weakness of her own hands,
 against the growing strength of
 the boys, against wind, against
 the stones, against trespassers,
 against rents, against her own mind.
 She grubbed this earth with her own hands,
 domineered over this grass plot,
 blackguarded her oldest son
 into buying it, lived here fifteen years,
 attained a final loneliness and—
 If you can bring nothing to this place
 but your carcass, keep out.



















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