In the gaze of the other

"My mistress' eyes are nothing…"

On This Winter Solstice Morning


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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