There's a certain slant of light,

Emily Dickinson, "There's a certain slant of light"

There's a certain slant of light,
On winter afternoons,
That oppresses, like the weight
Of cathedral tunes.

Heavenly hurt it gives us;
We can find no scar,
But internal difference
Where the meanings are.

None may teach it anything,
'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, 't is like the distance
On the look of death.

Through conversation today, I was reminded of this poem. 2003 - San Diego City college, hot ass English professor sat on top of his desk in a very English professor kind of way. While listening to him read, I focussed more at the time on the curl of his lips puckering versus the verses. You get the picture.

Basically the point is that this poem sounds. Without noise, it just sounds. Fucking rad. Reading is rad. Poetry is rad. I love you.

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