Tuesday, June 07, 2011


There’s 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 Meanings, are –
None may teach it – Any –
‘Tis the Seal Despair –
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 -

Emily Dickinson

A Charm Invests Her Face

And Zero At The Bone