It struck me — every Day —
The Lightning was as new
As if the Cloud that instant slit
And let the Fire through —
It burned Me — in the Night —
It Blistered to My Dream —
It sickened fresh upon my sight —
With every Morn that came —
I though that Storm — was brief —
The Maddest — quickest by —
But Nature lost the Date of This —
And left it in the Sky —
(Emily Dickinson)
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Based on Topics: Night Poems, Fire PoemsBased on Keywords: burned, slit, sickened, quickest, maddest, blistered