Wednesday, December 24, 2008

felice navidad

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 the Meanings, are--

None may teach it--Any--
Tis the Seal Despair--
An imperial affliction
Sent us of the Air--

When it comes, the Landcape listens--
Shadows --hold their breath--
When it goes, 'tis like the Distance
on the Look of Death--

-- Emily Dickinson


Christine said...

Can't help loving Dickinson's language and vision. Her words keep ringing. Thanks for sharing them.

Pam Hart said...

I like to post at least one of Emily's poems before the year ends.