ALITTLE road not made of man,
Enabled of the eye,
Accessible to thill of bee,
Or cart of butterfly.
If town it have, beyond itself,
‘T is that I cannot say;
I only sigh,—no vehicle
Bears me along that way.
A little road not made of man
Summary
"A little road not made of man" is a short Emily Dickinson poem that invites you down a path no wheel or foot can travel. Only the eye can follow it, while a bee and a butterfly pass along it with ease. The speaker gazes toward a town she cannot name and admits she can only sigh, since no vehicle will carry her there. Quiet, wistful and brief, it lingers on longing and the unreachable.
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