The Angle of a Landscape - That every time I wake - Between my Curtain and the Wall Upon an ample Crack - Like a Venetian - waiting - Accosts my open eye - Is just a Bough of Apples - Held slanting, in the Sky -
The Pattern of a Chimney - The Forehead of a Hill - Sometimes - a Vane's Forefinger - But that's - Occasional -
The Seasons - shift - my Picture - Upon my Emerald Bough, I wake - to find no - Emeralds - Then - Diamonds - which the Snow
From Polar Caskets - fetched me - The Chimney - and the Hill - And just the Steeple's finger - These - never stir at all.
Commenti