unlinked

the sage of Amherst rarely left her home
depression often kept her pent in bed
like Proust, it's just her mind that got to roam
the life she lived was mostly in her head
but for her writings, did she live at all?
was she an avatar in someone's game?
existing only on a Facebook wall
with no biology behind the name
her correspondence bridges time and space
a virtual community through books
she'll never meet her fan-base face-to-face
and they can only guess at how she looks
for Dickenson, a spindly web of ink
provided her her only human link