221 <br /> <br />It can't be "Summer"! <br />That—got through! <br />It's early—yet—for "Spring"! <br />There's that long town of White—to cross— <br />Before the Blackbirds sing! <br />It can't be "Dying"! <br />It's too Rouge— <br />The Dead shall go in White— <br />So Sunset shuts my question down <br />With Cuffs of Chrysolite!<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/it-can-t-be/
