waxing moon

Liguria, Italy, autumn 2014

I watched the Moon around the House
by Emily Dickinson

 
I watched the Moon around the House
Until upon a Pane --
She stopped -- a Traveller's privilege -- for Rest --
And there upon
I gazed -- as at a stranger --
The Lady in the Town
Doth think no incivility
To lift her Glass -- upon --
But never Stranger justified
The Curiosity
Like Mine -- for not a Foot -- nor Hand --
Nor Formula -- had she --
But like a Head -- a Guillotine
Slid carelessly away --
Did independent, Amber --
Sustain her in the sky --
Or like a Stemless Flower --
Upheld in rolling Air
By finer Gravitations --
Than bind Philosopher --
No Hunger -- had she -- nor an Inn --
Her Toilette -- to suffice --
Nor Avocation -- nor Concern
For little Mysteries
As harass us -- like Life -- and Death --
And Afterwards -- or Nay --
But seemed engrossed to Absolute --
With shining -- and the Sky --
The privilege to scrutinize
Was scarce upon my Eyes
When, with a Silver practise --
She vaulted out of Gaze --
And next -- I met her on a Cloud --
Myself too far below
To follow her superior Road --
Or its advantage -- Blue --

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