Tag: It sifts from leaden sieves – Emily Dickinson
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, â€” Unbroken forehead from the east Unto the east again. It reaches to the fence, It wraps it, rail by rail, Till it is lost […]Read More