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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 11, Poema 53
LIII.
A
clock
stopped
—
not
the
mantel's;
Geneva's
best
work
Can't
fix
the
figure
bowing
That
now
hangs
still.
An
awe
came
on
the
clock!
The
numbers
shook
with
pain,
Then
moved
from
decimals
Into
endless
noon.
It
will
not
move
for
doctors,
This
pendulum
of
snow;
The
shopman
asks
it,
But
it
says
no
From
the
golden
hands,
From
the
seconds
thin,
Years
of
pride
between
The
clock
life
and
him.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — A1 Inglés | Cuentana