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  • Emily Dickinson

    An awful Tempest mashed the air

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An awful Tempest mashed the air --
The clouds were gaunt, and few --
A Black -- as of a Spectre's Cloak
Hid Heaven and Earth from view.
 
The creatures chuckled on the Roofs --
And whistled in the air --
And shook their fists --
And gnashed their teeth --
And swung their frenzied hair.
 
The morning lit -- the Birds arose --
The Monster's faded eyes
Turned slowly to his native coast --
And peace -- was Paradise!
 

 

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