Emily Dickinson

The Fingers Of The Light

poem 1000

The Fingers of the Light Tapped soft upon the Town With I am great and cannot wait So therefore let me in. You’re soon, the Town replied, My Faces are asleep But swear, and I will let you by, You will not wake them up. The easy Guest complied But once within the Town The transport of His Countenance Awakened Maid and Man The Neighbor in the Pool Upon His Hip elate Made loud obeisance and the Gnat Held up His Cup for Light.

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