In the gaze of the other

"My mistress' eyes are nothing…"

On This Winter Solstice Morning

5 Comments

On this Winter Solstice morning, wishing you and yours powerful peace in the short sunlight hours and a good, long winter’s night sleep.

There’s a Certain Slant of Light – Emily Dickinson

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 Landscape listens —
Shadows — hold their breath —
When it goes, ’tis like the Distance
On the look of Death —

5 thoughts on “On This Winter Solstice Morning

  1. Emily Dickinson. She coulda benefited from a Prozac or 2.

    • She might not have produced such a lovely and penetrating poem as There’s a Certain Slant of Light had she been happier. Poems produced as palliative to pain is something of what poetry is about, no?

      • Yes. Indeed.

        I was being a bit cheeky. But I felt a melancholy of recognition and a pang of commiseration as well. She died relatively young at 56. Of course, 56 is only young by today standards. Still, I wonder.

  2. Hey, I know someone writes just like her…..

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