It Sifts from Leaden Sieves, It Powders All the Wood . . .

It sifts from leaden sieves,
It powders all the wood,
It fills with alabaster wool
The wrinkles of the road.

It makes an even face
Of mountain and of plain, —
Unbroken forehead from the east
Unto the east again.

It reaches to the fence,
It wraps it, rail by rail,
Till it is lost in fleeces;
It flings a crystal veil

On stump and stack and stem, —
The summer’s empty room,
Acres of seams where harvests were,
Recordless, but for them.

It ruffles wrists of posts,
As ankles of a queen, —
Then stills its artisans like ghosts,
Denying they have been.

Emily Dickinson


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4 Replies to “It Sifts from Leaden Sieves, It Powders All the Wood . . .”

  1. Deb Weyrich-Cody

    Oh WOW, March sure is taking a few rounds out of us this year, isn’t it?? (And here I thought that the measly 4″ that we got a couple of nights ago was a shocking surprise: )
    OMG, 16″ of powder?!? And just in time for those who’re lucky enough to already be down there (like a VERY lucky related Family ‘0 Mine; ) Happy March Break!

  2. Michaela

    Oh yes. And another foot this last storm. We have probably 3′ on the ground, here at this elevation. Oh, the mud season will never end. LOL. Winter comes later now, and lingers longer. Can we go back to the December snow days, please? xx

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