Emily Dickinson Theres a Certain Slant of Light, Winter Afternoons That oppresses like the Heft Of Cathedral Tunes - Heavenly Hurt, it gives us - We can find no scar, But internal difference, Where the Meanings, are - None may teach it - Any - 'Tis the Seal Dispair - An imperial affliction Sent us of the Air When it comes, the Landscape listens - Shadows - hold their breath - When it goes , 'tis like the Distance On the look of Death. photo:gb | |||||||
