{"id":4692,"date":"2006-04-05T12:46:02","date_gmt":"2006-04-05T16:46:02","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=4692"},"modified":"2015-05-20T10:24:32","modified_gmt":"2015-05-20T14:24:32","slug":"slant-of-light","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=4692","title":{"rendered":"A Certain Slant of Light"},"content":{"rendered":"

In honor of National Poetry Month<\/a><\/p>\n

The following poem has always freaked me out. I know what she means and yet the putting of those moments of dread into words like this … <\/p>\n

Whistling past a graveyard. By naming it, she summons it. <\/p>\n

There’s a certain Slant of light (258) <\/b>
\nby Emily Dickinson<\/i><\/p>\n

There’s a certain Slant of light,
\nWinter Afternoons–
\nThat oppresses, like the Heft
\nOf Cathedral Tunes–<\/p>\n

Heavenly Hurt, it gives us–
\nWe can find no scar,
\nBut internal difference,
\nWhere the Meanings, are–<\/p>\n

None may teach it–Any–
\n‘Tis the Seal Despair–
\nAn imperial affliction
\nSent us of the air–<\/p>\n

When it comes, the Landscape listens–
\nShadows–hold their breath–
\nWhen it goes, ’tis like the Distance
\nOn the look of Death–<\/p>\n

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