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 | |||||||
2 comments:
I never used to like Emily Dickinson, and then, I did. Something changed in me and I saw her differently. I'm so glad it did. thank you for posting this fine poem.
I also never liked Dickinson and still don't care much for her. I always feel she is working very hard to say something very insightful but doesn't quite know what or how.
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