Saturday, March 28, 2009


A Light exists in Spring
Not present on the Year
At any other period —
When March is scarcely here

A Color stands abroad
On Solitary Fields
That Science cannot overtake
But Human Nature feels.

It waits upon the Lawn,
It shows the furthest Tree
Upon the furthest Slope you know
It almost speaks to you.

Then as Horizons step
Or Noons report away
Without the Formula of sound
It passes and we stay —

A quality of loss
Affecting our Content
As Trade had suddenly encroached
Upon a Sacrament.

-Emily Dickinson


deandean said...

this picture is really gorgeous...just as your written posts are...

so glad to drop by :-)

Anonymous said...

Autumn has a kind of dark light. I suppose March is its opposite. A light within the light.

Lydia said...

This shot is breathtakingly beautiful. I am awed by it. The Dickinson poem fits perfectly. Great post!

fucoid said...

dickenson could really get it out with so few words. lovely combination.

thanks for joining my blog recently. i enjoy yours.