As impercetibly as grief, by Emily Dickinson
Agimpu ccptibk 95 grilf
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.]