Slate has observed Poetry Month for the last three weeks by publishing poems that are not part of the usual repertoire of poetry celebrating poetry. Here is the final (and most celebratory) installment, Emily Dickinson's proposition that the poet is mortal, while the poem is not, if it is vital. She also seems to say that each age widens or disseminates the light of a poem in a different way.

Listen to Robert Pinsky reading Emily Dickinson's #883

#883

The Poets light but Lamps—
Themselves—go out—
The Wicks they stimulate—
If vital Light

Inhere as do the Suns—
Each age a Lens
Disseminating their
Circumference—