A DAY DRIFTS WITH IDA STHL ______________________________ POEMS BY EMILY DICKINSON PHOTOGRAPHY BY RAGNAR RAEL

!ere is a solitude of space A solitude of sea

A solitude of death, but these Society shall be

Compared with that profounder site !at polar privacy

A soul admitted to itself- Finite In"nity.

I tie my HatI crease my Shawl Life's little duties doprecisely

As the very least Were in"niteto me

I put new Blossoms in the Glass

And throw the oldaway I push a petal from my Gown !at anchored thereI weigh !e time 'twill be till six o'clock

I have so much to do And yetExistencesome way back

Stoppedstruckmy tickingthrough

Each Life Converges to some Centre- Expressed-or still-

Exists in every Human Nature A Goal-

Adored with caution-as a Brittle Heaven- To reach

Were hopeless, as the Rainbows Raiment To touch-

!at it will never come again Is what makes life so sweet.

Believing what we don't believe Does not exhilarate.

!en moved my Fingers o As cautiously as Glass

And held my ears, and like a !ief Fled gasping from the House-

When duller than our dullness !e Busy Darling lay

So busy was she"nishing So leisurelywere We

A long long Sleep A famous Sleep !at makes no show for Morn

By Stretch of Limb or stir of Lid An independent One

Was ever idleness like !is?

Upon a Bank of Stone To bask the Centuries away

Nor once look up for Noon?