Sunday, April 5, 2015

#5 : A poor—torn heart—a tattered heart

an unfamiliar Emily Dickinson poem - all dashes and line breaks removed, creating one big block of prose with lines rebroke and words added 

Intent upon the vision of silver latitudes unknown there gathered from the gales and carried it to God this dusty heart espied a tattered heart tenderly took it up from toil the angels happening that way lead the wandering sails that ebbing day then sat it down to rest there flowed to the west nor noticed sandals for the barefoot nor noticed night did soft descend nor constellations burn do the havens by the hand a poor blue heart 

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