Category: Blog

For Dickinson: Four

Astonished at your perfumed Rose, rising to my breath;

I wish to drown what haunts you It fills the back of your eyes

Faint traceries of wind are All curling ‘round your crown.

I saw your cabin, stranger, Below the clouds and trees.

The roar of a distant highway intrudes like a timid visitor,

By peace and obscuring walls, by field and forest halls,

When summer drops, out of the green Spring folds and scatters in a flight of waking bees.

From An Undiscovered Archipelago.