108. Poem "The Angle of a Landscape"

The Angle of a Landscape -

That every time I wake -

Between my Curtain and the Wall

Opon an ample Crack -


Like a Venetian - waiting -

Accosts my open eye -

Is just a Bough of Apples -

Held slanting, in the Sky -


The Pattern of a Chimney -

The Forehead of a Hill -

Sometimes - a Vane's Forefinger -

But that's - Occasional -


The Seasons - shift - my Picture -

Opon my Emerald Bough,

I wake - to find no - Emeralds -

Then - Diamonds - which the Snow


From Polar Caskets - fetched me -

The Chimney - and the Hill -

And just the Steeple's finger -

These - never stir at all -


(F578)

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