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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 8, Poema 5
V.
Mornings
like
these
we
parted;
Noons
like
these
she
rose,
First
fluttering,
then
steady,
To
her
serene
repose.
She
never
whispered
it,
And
it
wasn’t
for
me;
She
was
silent
from
joy,
I,
from
agony!
Until
the
evening,
approaching,
One
drew
the
shutters
tight
—
Quick!
A
sharper
rustling!
And
this
linnet
took
flight!
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — C1 Inglés | Cuentana