Adoption Poetry From Emily Dickinson?

Have you read this Emily Dickinson poem?
I put it in my adoption book because it reads to me like an ambivalent someone searching, finding, and ultimately choosing the familiarity of not knowing over the uncertainty of what knowing might mean. An adoptee? A birth parent? An adoptive parent? Perhaps.

I years had been from home,
And now, before the door,
I dared not open, lest a face
I never saw before

Stare vacant into mine
And ask my business there.
My business,-just a life I left,
Was such still dwelling there?

I fumbled at my nerve,
I scanned the windows near;
The silence like an ocean rolled,
And broke against my ear.

I laughed a wooden laugh
That I could fear a door,
Who danger and the dead had faced,
But never quaked before.

I fitted to the latch
My hand, with trembling care,
Lest back the awful door should spring,
And leave me standing there.

I moved my fingers off
As cautiously as glass,
And held my ears, and like a thief
Fled gasping from the house.

Emily Dickinson

Sally Bacchetta
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