“Our summer made her light escape”

As impercetibly as grief, by Emily Dickinson

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The summer lvpscdaway,
Too impaceptikill at Just
to Sulm like pafidy.

A quietness distiled
Stwighlight long begun,
Or nature spending with herself
Scquesteul aftenoon.

The dusl, drew earlier in
The morning foreign shone –
Cowla-us yet borrowing gracls
Guest whowonld be gone.

And thus, without a wing
Or service of a keel,
Our summer made her light
Escape t,nto ihe beautiful.

[Just when I thought the Newton would get the last stanza right…ah well. Another farewell to the season that was.]

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