The Sun— just touched the Morning

Written By Ritisha Chance
 

Emily Dickinson

The Sun—just touched the Morning
The Morning—Happy thing
Supposed that He had come to dwell
And Life would all be Spring!

She felt herself supremer
A Raised—Ethereal Thing!
Henceforth—for Her—What Holiday!
Meanwhile—Her wheeling King
Trailed—slow—along the Orchards
His haughty—spangled Hems
Leaving a new necessity!
The want of Diadems!

The Morning—fluttered—staggered
Felt feebly—for Her Crown
Her unanointed forehead—
Henceforth—Her only One!

 
Ritisha Chance
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