Emily Dickinson Writes "The Gingerbread Man"

This is sort of a Christmas post, Martha Marinara’s fault. Suppose Emily Dickinson made gingerbread like she wrote poetry, or even worse, suppose she wrote poetry like she made gingerbread....

A pudgy fellow cooked by gas
Occasionally hides--
You may have met him--
Did you not
His notice sudden is--
The nose reacts as to a fork--
A flattened shape is seen--
And then it dashes past your feet
And sassy further on--
He likes an open doorway
A floor apart from meals--
But when a child and hungry
Returning after school
I passed I thought a morsel
Escaping on the run
When stooping to secure it
It danced away for fun--
Some of the kitchen’s people,
I know and they know me
I feel for them a transport
Of familiarity
I never met this fellow
Accompanied or alone
Without a warmer feeling
And spicy taste of home.

Here's Thinking for You, Best Wishes for the Holidays

Iffy